


A Flower for the Bee

by Veelitann



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Innocent love, Loneliness, M/M, Masturbation, Yurio is depressing, growing up is scary, i'm so bad at tags, phonecall, social network - Freeform, stupid nicknames, teenage, teenage illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:22:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9238850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veelitann/pseuds/Veelitann
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky is turning 16 and if is age doesn't really bother him, his body had become his worst ennemy. Growing up is the worst thing that seemed could have ever happened to him, and the idea of meeting Otabek after three months of distance is the most stressful thing that could cross his mind. But the Spring Gala is coming. And so is Otabek.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I'm kinda back, with a small new fanfiction, and I hope you'll like it! *3* I'm rarely one to be in a new and popular fandom but this time I am...And I couldn't resist long before writing! I'm also so late on my SnK and GW works, but for now...Please enjoy this ! \^.^/ 
> 
> Leave me a comment if you like or don't like, I really like to read your reactions ! °3°

"I fucking don't care!" 

"Yuri, please, don't be such a kid..." 

"I'm going home, don't even dare bother me till _tomorrow_." 

The young boy's next movement was simple : his feet kicked hard in the large door of the skating rink, and Yuri only had the time to hear Victor's sigh before the awful bang that resonated in the hall. It's been several months since Victor had returned to Russia, since he was back on the ice, since the day he, Yuri, had got this first place, this gold medal, at the last Grand Prix. 

He was going to turn sixteen the day after, and somehow it was already getting on his nerves. Victor probably never got that problem himself, his performances always going along with his body frame. Victor probably didn't have to really deal with what he was and what he was getting to be. 

And Yuri was in that state, teenage suddenly hitting hard on him in a way he knew that would be, somehow. But there was a difference between knowing things and experiencing them, living them. He could feel his own heartbeat, strong, heavy in his ribcage as he was walking down the corridor to the changing room. Even after so much time out of Russia, stuck in Japan with that other Yuuri, Victor was still the same: tactless, rude, unable to understand others feelings toward themselves. 

It was ice skating only to Victor. Thanks god, the guy had found another weirdo thinking the same way as him, even though he was living in another country. It appeared that Victor wasn't back by himself in the end: Yuuri had asked him to leave so they could both work on ice and impress each other through their performance. Well, it was certainly a way to show their...affection? Yuri winced at the idea. He never really got what was the real bond between those two and somehow he wasn't sure if he wanted to exactly know. It was way easier to think "I'm too young to get it". 

The door of the changing room banged closed behing him as all his thoughts wre making their way in his mind. Young. That was the main problem here, and Yuri sighed deeply. Sixteen years old. At school, most of the students were prety excited when their birthday was coming. Especially sixteen, seventeen and so on. It meant becoming an adult, with adult's privilege. With adult responsabilities. With an adult mind. 

It actually wasn't the worst part, Yuri had to admit. He'd always been smarter and more mature than the average of his age, from far. Maybe it was also the reason of his loneliness. He knew how of a jerk he was to people his age. 

But he quite didn't care that much. Being alone was also a part of that life full of training everyday, full of ice skating everyday, full of everything but human beings. He had never really looked for others to come in his life and instead focused on his carreer as a skater. It worked pretty well, and as long as he could use his body the way he needed, everything would be fine. 

Yuri pulled on the hem of his sweatshirt in silnce. Overthinking was one of his bad habit but he couldn't help and once again he was at it, his main problem he had to face until now. 

His body. 

He knew that it had to happen one day. He was growing up pretty fast these months compare with what he hoped. His body was changing little by little. His knees, his elbows, his back were being pretty painful most of the time and his flexibility tended to fade day after day. He hated that. He hated watching himself being that weak and unable to do anything against his biological clock. He wasn't even mentionning all that disgusting sexual thing that sometimes had to wake him up in the middle of the night, leaving him panting in his bed, tangled with his sheets. 

It hurt so much to be stuck in that body, in that state. 

When he left the changing room, his bag hanging on his shoudler, there was no one left. The dim liht from a door far in the corridor was the only prove that soeone was still in, probably Victor or Yakov. He'd spent too much time under that shower, switching from hot to cold water until his skin was burning on both positions and his mind was unable to think properly anymore. It would do, for a moment, at least until he coud get home, right on time for dinner. 

It was snowing, and he sighed again. The wind was so cold, biting his face, and he tried to hide his chin, his cheeks and nose in his thick scarf to only let his eyes burn due to the coldness of the outside. In the pocket of his coat, he tip of his fingers were playing a little with the shape of his cellphone. The plastic frame was being pretty cold too, he didn't have to take his gloves off to know it. 

It was already dark outside. Day after day, the steam coming out of his breathing felt thicker and thicker and he couldn't help thinking back about how winter in Japan last year had been pretty sweet compare with Russia's. His nose was red all the time, his cheeks burning under the bite of the cold. 

"I'm home," he softly said while pushing the door of the house. 

He knew that nobody would answer him, and he sighed. Again. Somehow, he was feeling like his life had lately been full of sighs and silences. His grandfather was for a few time with an old friend of his, helping after the decease of the old wife of the even elder other man. At first, his grandfather had refused to go, not wanting to let the boy alone, but Yuri could picture the need of the man to go and see his old friend, to keep company, to comfort, to talk and everything that the situation involved. So he almost forced him to leave the place for as long as necessary -and after all, as he reminded him, he'd been in Japan without even saying a word to anyone, only to find Victor and he was barely fifteen when he did. 

He turned the light on, letting his bag fall on the floor beside the old couch of the main room. The weak bulb stuck at the ceiling was moving a little due to a few wind entering the lounge while he was getting in, and the dark shadows of the fournitures were slowly dancing on the walls. 

Pretty quickly, he took the first remote he found and pressed on the biggest button to turn whatever it was on. Whever it was the TV or the HiFi station, he didn't care. He just needed a noise, something, anything to fill the air and comfort him right now. It came up with the soft clap of a CD getting switched on, and the first song made him sudenly shiver, small goosebump covering his thin skin. It was playing the Symphony No. 9, 2nd Movement "Advent". Something so powerful that it made its way under his skin every time he was listening to this track, making his senses upside down. Every time, he couldn't help but let the pictures of that program he'd seen on that day. 

Yuri sighed, again, and let his tired body fall on the old couch, cushions creaking under his weight. 

It was Otabek's free program. Closing his eyes, Yuri tried to remember as best as he could the moces of the young man. Determination and power had been like overwhelming his body while dancing on the ice and somehow. Every time he was rewatching Otabek's performance on the DVD Yakov gave him with the full recording of the Grand Prix Final from last year. 

When he was focusing on the man himself and not only his powerful body, Yuri felt a bit lost. He couldn't really get what was in Otabek's mind at that moment, when he was skating. Scowling so much, effort painted on his face and at the same time it was like everything was easy and running like water in the bed of the river, like each motion was the obviousness. 

The second track started and it made him start a little. It was late, time flying so fast. 

His room was stuck in darkness too, but the dim light of the street lamps allowed ran through the curtains and it was barely enough for him to find the way to his bed. 

On the sheets, his hand slapped against the cold plastic frame of his laptop, closed in the middle on the bed since the morning when he left. Mumbling a little, the teenager took his phone out of his backpocket and almost jumped on the mattress, springs yelling under the sudden weight. Someday it was going to break, he swore. 

Phone in hand, he pushed on the main button to light up the digital screen and pressed the easy code to give access. Since he left the ice rink, Yuri hadn't given a eye to his phone, but the amount of notifications wasn't something to really fear. The top bar of the screen was full of small icons featuring Twitter, FaceBook and Tumblr for the main part. The screen showed '148 notifications' and Yuri sighed, already sweeping them one after another. Fangirls were abusing of social medias when to him it was mostly a way to keep contact with people far way from him. Little by little, he'd lost track of them and only reguarly gave a small look at their online business when there was. 

Amongst all the names he didn't even remember following, one suddenly got attractedtion and he stopped sweeping his screen with no care then pushed hard on the notification displayed with his thumb. It was a simple retweet of a picture taken during the Grand Prix and Yuri couldn't help but smile at it, even if it was a little embarrassing. Otabek was in the middle of the photograph with his thumb up, looking far from the rink he should have been more interested in as he was about to perform. 

Yuri moved his thumb and index so he could enlarge the picture on his phone. Otabek wasn't at it at all and for a few seconds Yuri wondered what the young man was looking for. He was smiling softly, even on the blurr photograph he could tell from the soft dimples at the corner of his mouth. Then he remembered. Him. Otabek was looking at him, sending back his cheers from the bleachers. Yuri felt a bit curious at that memory, a soft and warm feeling filling his body as well and he couldn't help but smile too. With a strong pressure on the screen, he saved the picture in his phone. Humming softly, Yuri read the caption above the picture and bit a little his low lip. 'Thank you my friend'. Otabek didn't tag Yuri's account, didn't write his name, but Yuri knew who this was for and the warmth in his chest grew a little. But he only pressed the small heart beside, letting Otabek know that he had, at least, seen the tweet. 

There was no other interesting post. Fangirls were writing comments everywhere they could and he didn't read all of them with a lot of attention. He knew it wasn't correct of him, but he wasn't one to act as if he was interested in omething when he truly wasn't. 

Holding back a yawn, he simply wrote 'back from practise..............fuck' with a gloomy instant selfie in the dark of the room, only enlighted but the phone screen. Gloomy was quite the word, he told himself when he saw his own post in his Twitter timeline in a large size on his laptop screen a few minutes later. 

He had nothing to do –maybe homeworks but he wasn't really in the mood. His knees still ache after the day and he was feeling like for once Victor was right about not using some moves and jumps before he's done growing up. Yuri knew that he shouldn't have yelled at Victor for such advices, but at the same time it was just the most frustrating thing ever, and he felt like... 

A 'beep' made him start as he was already getting lost in his own thoughts and he went back to his screen and the Twitter notification page that indicated that blue '1'. Another 'beep' right away and he clicked on the '2' newly appeared. 

**Ota-bee @otabekaltin liked one of your tweets.**

**Ota-bee @otabekaltin : "like a princess, man"**

Yuri gggled a liltle before suddenly stopping. It was a bit odd to laugh alone in the darkness of his room. There was still the sound of the music from the lounge but still, he was alone. He just smiled then, and clicked on the 'answer' link. 

**Yura @russiantiger : "listen to the BEE talking"**

He didn't have to wait for long. 

**Ota-bee @otabekaltin : "Don't underestimate bees' power, you flower"**

Yuri coughed at the sentence, unsure of how to take it. To be honest, he never knew how to analyze Otabek's words. Most of the time, he was making fun of him, or just clicking on the 'like' button under the few publications he'd made. But there, it was hard not to see a sexual content and Yuri spent a long moment starring at the screen, the words of Otabek especially, before letting go without replying. Not that he would reproach it to the guy, but he didn't know how to answer properly without sounding like some weirdo. Otabek was his first friend and he was already a huge mess when it came to simply write, let alone talk. The next hour was only made of a soft exchange of 'like' between the two of them on stupid retweets they were publishing. Every time Yuri was reading Otabek's name on his notification page, he was feeling like his smile would never left his face. It wasn't just because that nickname was the most ridiculous he'd ever read, and he knew it. He was big enough to understand those things, though it wasn't easy to completly figure out what he was feeling at the moment. The soft feeling wasn't gone by now, and for a moment he was scrolling down Otabek's page, watching his public timeline. Most of the time, it was his everyday life. His parent's puppy, a cat in the street (he didn't taf Yuri on this one, but there was 'I thought of you' above it and Yuri totally assumed have something to see with him, he hoped), his school, the ice rink... 

That girl with that amazing smile and those dark eyes, that dark long hair. He had missed that picture, didn't know her face but for sure Otabek had taken this one. Yuri could recognize Otabek's street from all the pictures he'd seen until now, the front of his house, that tree a little farther, those red curtains behind the windows. 

A 'beep' louder than the usual ones came and Yuri lifted his eyes up, raising an eyebrow at the private message twinkling. He opened with a slow motion of his mouse and stopped two seconds before eargerly clicking on the awfully stupid nickname. 

Ota-bee : "Eeek sorry, wrote something weird before" 

Yuri blinked, before getting back to their so small exchange. He tightened his lips into a thin line, trying not to smile too much. Otabek was always like that, saying silly things and then coming in private later to talk a little, whatever was his subject. 

**Yura : "It's ok"**

**Ota-bee : "Hard day?"**

**Yura : "kind of, Vic is boring"**

**Ota-bee : "Vic? But he's not your coach, is he?"**

**Yura : "He doesn't need to be my coach to be too much of a fucker"**

**Ota-bee : "Wow how rude ahah"**

Yuri smiled, again, then gave a look at the clock in the corner f the screen. Twitter beeped again, getting his attention. 

**Ota-bee : "Hey flower!"**

**Yura : "wtf"**

**Ota-bee : "It's midnight! Happy birthday man"**

Yuri let a second pass. Then another and another, until a full minute was gone and he barely noticed how breathless he was, teeth digging into his lower lip. Oh fuck. He was growing up, again, and it had to be Otabek the first one to remind him how time was awful. And at the same time, he couldn't help his smile to stretch from one ear to another, simply happy with the thought of his friend coming only to wish him a 'happy birthday'. He wanted to imagine Otabek smiling behing his screen while typing those few words but once again, he wasn't completly sure of what he wanted. He stared at his own fingers, softly shaking, and simply wrote "thanks". 

He didn't need Otabek to care that much about it. He just wanted him to talk, to tell him about his day if he wanted to, to comment on the last photo he'd seen, the last performance he'd had, all the small things, even the most stupid. 

**Ota-bee : "go to bed dumbass, you looked exhausted on your pic"**

Yuri frowned a little. 

**Yura : "hey what time is it for you?"**

**Ota-bee : "around 3"**

**Yura : "what, pm?"**

**Ota-bee : "na, AM, I'm not that far"**

**Yura : "YOU GO TO BED"**

**Ota-bee : "Cruel flower Yura!"**

**Yura : "fucking annoying bee"**

**Ota-bee : "gotta go man, night"**

**Yura : "night"**

Otabek was quickly offline and Yuri didn't wait a second more before shutting the laptop off. This time, he didn't sigh, his mind too far away to properly react to everything. He pushed the laptop aside, before taking off his clothes and slide into his thick pajamas. He was cold, even after rolling his body in the sheets, despite the heater in the bedroom. It probably was because hewas so tired after that day, full of practise, full of fails, full of painful falls, and Yuri wasn't used to deal with failure. His flexibility wasn't terrible these months and it was slowly killing him. Yakov had to yell after him. He yelled, and it was actually the first time since he started skating, that someone had to do so. Ice skating was all he had –and for that reason, he never reproached Victor his behaviour and exclusivity toward their discipline, no matter how much he disliked it. 

Yuri tightened the sheets tight around his shoulders, his face plunging as deep as possible in his pillow. Being alone had never been a problem untill now. He had ice skating and it was all that mattered. Because there was Victor around him everyday, but since the man had left for Japan and for Yuuri, things had slightly tended to change. At first, Yuri hadn't really got what was that feeling, Victor had always been like a father to him, always been here when he needed him to be. 

_But._

He never confessed anything to Victor, never treated him as he could have as a friend. Victor wasn't someone he would see as a friend actually. It was so much different. He was that paternal figure he hadn't with him. His grandfather woudln't replace the lost son, both them knew it and Yuri respected and loved the old man strong enough not to think about the loss and the dull aching in his chest. Every time he was failing to it, he made himself as busy as possible, burying in work, ice skating again and again, focusing on being the best, no matter if it made an asshole of him most of the time. 

_But._

He _did_ feel lonely. And because of that, the hint of culpability was hitting him so hard, because he couldn't talk to his grandfather, to Victor, to any of those people he loved and trusted. He was alone, unable to speak, each day passing by without the possibility to say how he was feeling, how scared he was to get adult and go through life by himself. 

He would never dare tell Otabek. Instead, he prefered focusing on how sweet was that feeling in his chest whenever he saw the young man's nickname on messages, comments, and various posting in his timelines. It just made him smile again and again, felt like his heart was wrapped into some soft and warm feeling again. And smile, smile again, alone in the dark gloomy room, until his only friend was offline, leaving him to his reality. 

Today wasn't different, after all, and Yuri tried not to sink deeper in those dark thoughts, tried to remember that sweet feeling of shy hapiness at Otabek's clumsy words. And if it wouldn't change his world so much, it was better to imagine being liked, if not loved, by someone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His birthday had always been a trouble, and Yuri knew it wouldn't be any different this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah yeah I know, posting first and second chapters at the same time! Actually, I started this as a one shot, without even thinking about anything, just writing for what I wanted to put in it and after a while I was like "well, I can't work properly if it's still a one shot, I have to cut it!"   
> So here we are ! /o/
> 
> As usual, don't hesitate and leave your reactions about the chapter ! °3°

Chapter 2 

The next day, Yuri woke up with in the worst mood ever. He'd spent half the night overthinking, and it got on his nerves, the lack on sleep being something he wasn't fond of. He was hungry from skipping dinner the day before –how had he simple forgot to eat after training? He was tired as fuck, his body aching from practising too much. But he had to go. 

In the living room, the HiFi station had stopped playing the music CD for long now and it was awfully silent, so he quickly turned the TV on, not even giving attention to the channel it was. He just needed some noise to occupy his mind with. 

Breakfast. Shower. Dressing up. Yuri didn't mind about his hair so much and only tied it up in a loose ponytail. It got easier to do so, actually, as it had grown longer and longer, past his shoulders now. Mila often spent a few long minutes making small braids in it and he ended using his full evening trying to undo her stupid work.   
On his cellphone, numerous notification again. Fans from all over the world were obviously stalking his account and if it was quite great to know for his popularity, he wasn't one to really appreciate feeling stalked. Not only feeling, but actually being stalked wasn't his cup of tea ad he still reminded that day when Otabek had to rescue him from fangirls. Trapped, he was unable to make a move on his own, and without Otabek he would probably have been taken somewhere by that wave of females. They were scary, yelling his name and looking for him in every street they could go in. 

Once more, Yuri sighed, and went for his private messages before actually chock on his spoon stuck in his mouth. He'd forgotten. Oh shit. It wasn't a day for checkig his mailbox and all that stuff. 

He'd fucking forgotten His own birthday, even if Otabek had already said that sweet "Happy birthday" shit and all, the day was just beginning right now. How could he have forgotten one year ago when he'd run as fast as he could from home to the ice rink in order to lose those awful girls, hands full of gifts for him –and full of hopes for more coming from him. He winced despite himself at the memory again. That day, he'd only been lucky to make it to the hall, nobody came to save him. Nobody would have, actually.   
When he was locking the door, Yuri already sightsaw some unusual movesaround the house. He closed the zip of his coat, secured his bag around his shoulders. A quick glance at his shoes –running shoes, he got it well. 

And without thinking twice, he started running. 

"HE'S OUT!" 

Oh shit-shit-shit. His mind was racing while running, he could hear their voices, he had to check on his right, on his left, to be sure that they weren't coming from--   
Shit-shit-shit, they were. 

He tried to run faster, but his knees didn't cooperate so much, hurting like hell from the unwanted effort. 

"THIS WAY! RUN!" 

Before Yuri could understand what was happening, a hand was suddenly grabbing his arm, pulling him with strenght in another direction and he realized that the last order didn't came from the girls. It was a man voice, and this whole situation brought him back to Spain right away. Heart beating hard in his chest, he looked up at the body running before him, that large back, broad shoulders moving to keep the body balance, those long and powerful legs-- 

Yuri couldn't see his face, only the back of his neck and he knew, oh, how did he know for watching it so much on pictures at night in the last months, he knew who could wear that undercut with that dark brown hair. 

He tried to call his name, but at that very moment the strong hand pulled again, the taller body wrapping him, back against a door to hide both them. Yuri was panting, so hard from the run, he hardly managed to catch his breath back, nose shove into the leather of a thick and cold jacket. His frozen fingers were gripping the fabric so hard, his knuckles painful from the cold weather. He lift his head, but stuck against the body he couldn't manage to see his face. 

"Otab--" 

"Shhh, they're not gone, wait a little." 

Yuri obeyed and while he was waiting patiently –or even impatiently, he sifted a little and the voice of Otabek reached his ears again. 

"Oh my, are they really looking after you? What the fuck did you do to your karma?" 

Yuri frowned a little. Something was wrong with this whole shitty situation. Not the girls, he was used to it (somehow). But...Had Otabek ever been this tall before? 

"Ah, sounds like they're far..." 

Was he that pale before? 

"I guess that you're safe for now..." 

Yuri gritted his teeth, swallowing with a hint of shame in the process. Otabek didn't have such a jerky voice. He growled deeply when their bodies parted and this time he got a perfect view of the man's face. He winced with a deep annoyance written all over his features. 

"Hey, J.J., what the fuck are you doing here?" he finally managed to articulate. 

Jean-Jacques Leroy had his usual smile, one full of teeth -one that made Yuri's stomach regret eating before going out.He really was so uneasy around that guy, no matter what he was doing or saying. But J.J. laughed a little, then shrugged and wavec toward the street they'd left to hide. 

"I heard you were having some issues with fangirls, Yuri-chan." 

Not holding back a "tsk", Yuri pushed J.J., his hand digging into the man's jacket. 

"That's not my question, why are you here in Russia?" 

The Canadian looked down at him a few seconds, before smiling again and Yuri had to admit that there was one thing not so bad about him : his height. Like this, it looked like Yuri hadn't grew up so much. But J.J. felt like he was the same height as Otabek the last time they met, at the Grand Prix Finals. Three months ago. 

"Mmmh?" 

J.J. completly let go of Yuri and raised up a hand to scratch softly at his own cheek, his other hand shoving deep in his pocket to keep it warm. 

"They didn't tell you?" 

Yuri scowled at him, threatening, and J.J. sighed heavily. "Oh my bad, did they intend to tell you today or something?" 

"J.J. …"Yuri heard himself growled deeply, and somehow his own voice scared him. It had already changed with the years, but it seemed that it wasn't completly set. Was it going to be deeper than now? J.J. stared at Yurio as the boy suddenly shut, his lips tightening together in a thin line, eyes dropping to find the floor more interesting. He raised his eyebrown with some surprise as nothing more was coming to bully him as he thought. 

"Uh, Yuri-chan?" 

"Jerk," the blond boy murmured. 

"Oy oy, I didnt mean to hurt you, what am I even saying, well, there's nothing wrong actually, I'm a bit early here to actually say it, and maybe that's normal if they still haven't told y--" 

"Say it already, holy shit!" 

J.J. blinked with surprise. He was used to Yuri's annoyed face, Yuri's angry face, every of Yuri's faces actually. But here, there was more than anger, it was as if disapointement was setting deep in Yuri's glare. It looked a bit weird, but at the same time it wasn't so bad to look at. Even cute, J.J. had to admit, and he smiled again, mabe more stypudly than usual, because Yuri's facial expression changed a little to...Irritation. Oh well, this one was more of him. 

"Spring gala will take place here. In Moscow, I mean. You should already know by now, don't you?" 

Yuri froze a little in his coat, despite his scarf. He could feel his bag hanging heavily on his shoulders. What the fuck? 

"What? Spring gala? Do you mean the one..." 

"Mh? Yeah, on the 21st, it's been a long time since it hadn't been here, really!" 

Yuri didn't answer at first. Yakov didn't say a word about it. Neither did Victor. Then, he let his hands drop by his sides. 

"They didn't tell me." 

J.J. hold back a grimace at Yuri's poor expression despite his effort not to show his frustration. It wasn't bad to look at. He could admit that too and somehow it made J.J. sighed deeply. 

"Oh boy, what's that face?" he tried to gently tease. The look he got in exchange quickly told him not to continue on this way. He pointed his thumb toward the over side of the street. "Wanna walk? We're not so far from the rink now." 

Yuri hesitated a second and J.J. talked again. "I don't hear them anymore, I'm pretty sure those girls are gone." 

The boy shrugged and left the door, letting J.J. follow him quietly. The street had become calm by the time, and J.J. hummed softly while walking. It didn't take long for Yuri to figure what was the song. 

"Hey jerk, you even sing song your own fucking shit?" 

"What? I like that song, why couldn't I sing something I appreciate?" 

"How can a human being so undecently be in love with himself, seriously man?" 

J.J. muffled a soft laughter at that and gave Yuri a gentle gaze. "That song isn't really about me, ya know." 

Yuri rolled his eyes. That man really had a way to say things. "You tell me, jerk." 

"That's something important to me, it does represent a lot. Well, how to say it simply?" 

"You talk too much." 

J.J. laughed again. "My mother and Isabella composed and wrote it together for me," he finally said. "That means a lot, but I guess you can't get all of this unles you go through something similar yourself." 

Yuri didn't replied. Actually, he somehow could understand; it was family related, and it was enough for him to put things together and why J.J. was so much into his own world. He was working all out for them, those he loved. 

The blond boy frowned a little hen he saw the hall doors of the rink far in the street. Did they walk that fast? "By the way, where's your fiancé? I heard you two got married last month?" 

But this time, J.J. remained silent for a while, and here was something amazing and frightening at the same time in this quiet silence, and Yuri quite didn't really liked it. J.J.'s face had suddenly decomposed, and he looked like he was a huge mess right now, not stopping his walk. 

"Hey, J.--" 

J.J. sighed, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets. 

"I'll tell you later, boy. But you, tell me? How was it afer getting your medal gold right after entering the seniors?" 

"Like hell," Yuri mumbled. 

"Really? Appealing!" J.J. started laughing again, and there was something soft and unusual in his laughter that unsettled Yuri. It was as if J.J. was broken, but he couldn't quite point out what was the problem with the guy. 

"Well it's been like...Three months? Since the last time we met," J.J. continued as if nothing was wrong. 

Yuri nodded and J.J. looked at him from the corner of his eye. 

"That's now that I see you're still young," he suddenly said. "I noticed it earlier, but oh my, you've grown so much! How tall are you know?" 

Yuri winced even deeper than before, his fiss clenched far in his pockets and he barely was aware of how dark hos glare was to J.J. at that moment. But the Canadian didn't seem to notice, eyes on the blond's body, although it was hidden as much as possible under the large coat. 

"I wonder how they feed their kids here in Russia!" J.J. waved his hand flat between Yuri's and his heads to compare them. "You're gonna be as tall as I am soon if you don't stop! I guess you got pretty muscular by now? Training must have gotten harder by the time, right? Do you--" 

"Jeez, can't you shut the fuck up already, you fucking jerk!?" 

The boy had slapped J.J.'s hand away before even thinking of doing it. It was a little too much to handle at once; meeting J.J. hadn't been on his planning at all, not now, and listening to him blathering on his appearance was even less of hat he wanted to do on such a shitty day. All he wanted was going back home, hide under his duvet and forget about his life while reading Otabek's stupid feed on Twitter. This was all he needed at that very moment. Nothing more, nothing less. Or maybe a little more, but it would be selfish of his. Plus, he didn't have time enough to think about lazzing around. 

"Yuri-chan," J.J. tried gently, catching his arm as the boy was walking faster. "What's going on?" 

Somehow, this whole situation was getting on his nerves. Everything. J.J.'s hand on him, his voice, his height, his attempt at being soft and nice, so different than usually that it wasn't J.J. at all and still, he was here with him, the topic he was bringing...Everything. 

"Are you deaf?" Yuri spit. "Shut up." 

He broke with J.J.'s handle on his arm, only to ran again toward the doors he could quickly reach now. His legs ached so much, due to his run earlier or not, and he was tired already. Barely eight in the morning and his day was already fucked up by far. Running to the changing room, Yuri didn't give a fuck to the figure of Victor in the long corridor when they crossed each other. He barely heard his voice calling for him, and just locked himself in the room when he finally reached it. 

His bag hit the floor with a soft sound, his coat quickly found a place, hanging on the wall. He needed some time to catch his breath, sitting on the woody bench. He couldn't even sigh at the pain growing in his legs, in his burning knees, and even massaging them didn't do much. It had started during his training for the Grand Prix. He knew it. He knew his body wouldn't last for long in this shape, thin and small, graceful and elegant. And it probably was gone alraedy now. 

Yuri hated looking at himself in the mirror. He hated that reflection of himself he had to find, something new every week, every month and it was hard to get used to it so quickly. It hurt. Looking at it hurt. Living it day after day hurt. Physically and emotionally, it was sometimes unbearable and he felt miserable for being so weak.   
It would be ok today, he tried to comfort himself. His breath was slowly coming back and he took his phone from his backpocket, enlightening the screen from habit. Too many messages here. He sighed, feeling his energy gone for like forever and he shook his head a little to himself. It wasn't him, to let go of things like that. One by one, he let his thumb slide on notifications to erased them, reading the unknown names wishing him to have a great day, and he was pretty sure that his feed would be full of 'Happy birthday' things pretty soon –if not yet. His mail inbox too. He scrowled down this one, not giving much attention to all the messages he'd gotten from way too many people. 

He found him eventually. The name was written with bold letters, as there was an unread message from a few minutes ago only, and Yuri opened it with curiosity. 

**Ota-bee : "You're ok?"**

Yuri stared at it for a moment. 

Yeah. He was ok. He probably was. He had to-- 

Or. 

He wasn't. He probably wasn't. Yuri nodded silently to himself, feeling a bit stupid to answer with mimics to a message. He raised his head, breathing deeply, trying to ignore his shaky hands gripping his phone with strenght. He heard himself sniff, and the second after he was wincing at the feeling of his tingling nose. Shit. 

His phone buzzed softly in his hands, and he looked down at the screen. At that moment, he simply froze, his heartbeat making a giant loop in his chest. 

Otabek was calling. 

Otabek was calling, and it was some of his fucking visio-thing again. And he couldn't show himself like that -he could feel the small burn in his eyes and hs red nose threatened to flow anytime now. 

Yuri dismissed the call quickly with a unsteady thumb. He didn't like what he'd done just now. Otabek reaction didn't wait for long. 

**Ota-bee "Busy? Sorry"**

Yuri sniffed again –he wasn't crying, for god's sake. It took him a moment to calm down. He had refused every visiocall from Otabek for two months now, and always called him back in a normal way. No visio. He felt too different from the last time he saw him, and the idea that the young man wouldn't accept his appearence was scary. He wrote quickly. 

**Yura : "A little. I call you later"**

**Ota-bee : "You're at the rink?"**

**Yura : "Yeah, changing room"**

**Ota-bee : "wow, didn't want me to see you naked?"**

**Yura : "WTF"**

Actually, it might have been Otabek's plan to make him feel better -if he'd ever know about how he was rigt now, Yuri was pretty sure that he would have been able to say such a thing. Or not. It was always hard to say, as the only met three months ago, and hours of talking non-stop didn't make them catch up with all they needed to know from each other. 

His hands weren't shaking anymore and he wasn't really thinking about the tears on his cheeks. 

Despite his hard features, Otabek was...Shy, a little rude but soft, his voice deep and low when he was talking to him. He didn't really talk to people otherwise. 

**Ota-bee : "I'm sure you're smiling, don't you?"**

Yuri just had the time to put a hand on his own face. Under his still cold fingers, his lips were stretched from one ear to another, and he was sure he was making a pretty dumb face. 

**Yura : "I'm not, dumbass"**

Yes, he was. So much. Like everytime Otabek was coming and sending him a message, even that simple 'hello' sometimes, or asking him about some stupid stuff he didn't understand on a publishing. Reading his name was just the most amazing thing, the softest, the best that could happen to go through his days and he wanted to feel like it would last forever on his face everytime it happened. 

**Ota-bee : "i failed this time then"**

**Yura : "you fail every time stupid"**

He could imagine the soft grin on Otabek's face if he had been here in front of him, his reaction to his pouting face. Or rather, it was how he imagine him to react. They had never seen each other in such a situation .

**Ota-bee : "how rude man!"**

**Ota-bee : "did you meet JJ btw?"**

Yuri frowned a little at the question, surprised, and took a few seconds to take his clothes off, kicking his running shoes away in the process. Even with the heaters on, being half naked in the changing room didn't help much and he felt cold, shivering. 

**Yura : "you know he's here?"**

**Ota-bee "ah cool he was on time"**

**Yura : "wtf with your answers bee"**

**Ota-bee : "ask the king dumbass"**

**Yura : "fuck you bee"**

His head went through the collar of his training shirt and he fumbled awkwardly while trying to put his arms and shoulders in the reste of the cloth. It was too tight again and somehow it killed him to agree with J.J. on that point : he was larger, muscles not especially incredible and big, but present visually and physically. He would escape this fate and he knew it. Same with the trousers. It was made out of spandex so he had no problem with the width of the cloth, but-- 

It was shorter than two weeks ago when he bought it. And the worse was probably the seam rubbing between his legs, making him growl at the awful feeling. He could trace the shape of his boxers through the stretch fabric as if everything was litteraly painted on his legs and he already could hear the laughter of Mila. Well. He didn't have the choice and with a dark scowl on his face, he left the changing room, not giving his phone another look, tightening it in his hand. 

Yakov had just banged againt the door, yelling his name for him to start his day of practise.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training hadn't gone that well. Unable to practise properly, Yuri had to stop, and focus on the secret of the Spring Gala and how the hell J.J. was able to help him in the morning. But Victor didn't answer something he'd ever been expecting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am already guys ! :D 
> 
> Oh dears, yesterday was startling, I didn't expect so many reactions right after publishing these two chapters ! ;w; Thank you all so much so much so much! 
> 
> I really like writing this, and I hope you all like reading and enjoy as much as I do! 
> 
> Luv for everyone !

He didn't have to talk to Victor and explain his behaviour from the day before. The man was sitting amongst the bleachers with J.J., far enough so no one would be able to ear them talk. Both them didn't have a joyful conversation, it was clear. J.J.'s features were almost dark at that moment, though he tried to smile as often as possible, probably in order to look like himself. But it wasn't J.J., yuri could swear. J.J. was unearable, talkative, saying silly things all the time, making fun of him -and he didn't even try, not even once, when they met earlier. Or if he did, it was just so lame that Yuri didn't even notice it. 

"YURI! FOCUS FOR GOD'S SAKE !" 

"Yeah, yeah," the blond boy mumbled. 

A soft yet audible cheer came from the bleachers and Yuri barely waved at Victor for that. He knew that the man woudln't reproach him anything, wouldn't say anything as long as it wasn't on the ice. 

"More flexible! Hey, what's that move, Yuri?" 

Yuri winced while arching his back as much as possible after the next jump. His knees were killing him every time he was working on them, jumping, taking speed, lowing down on his legs. 

The sudden and brutal feeling of ice against his skin hurt, shaking him with violence and pain. Screams quickly surrounded Yuri, and the sound of skates moving around him barely reached his ears as he was trying to get up on his own skates. 

"Hey Yuri! Are you ok?" Mila's voice finally came out and he could feel two hands on his shoulders. But the touch wasn't the same as before, strong but not as much as before. She wasn't stronger than him anymore. She wasn't taller, he noticed when she pulled on his hand to lift him at her level. 

His arm and side hurt, but mainly because of the shock and the cold contact with the ice. He nodded when she asked again about how he was doing. On the edge of the rink, Yakov was silent, staring at them. Yuri glanced at Victor and J.J., who where looking back at him. 

"That's red, " Mila said while twisting Yuri's arm in every sense possible. "Wanna go to the nurse?" 

"It's ok, I told you." He let go of her hands, trying not to be too rude at her. "I fell that's all, right? It still happens to the best of us." 

She frowned a little. "Oh you, little brat--" But Yakov voice suddenly resonated, calling for the boy. When he reached the man, he knew somehow that it wasn't for some care. 

"Bench," Yakov sighed. "Take a break." 

"But coach--" 

"We might have taken all this a bit too far for you lately." 

Yakov voice was so low that Yuri had to give an attentive ear to get it, and he felt his blood freeze in his veins. 

"What?" 

"Break," the man repeated. 

For a few seconds, they stared at each other, then Yuri lowed his eyes down to his own feet. Slowly, he left the ice, and the blade of his skaters on the plain floor was suddenly the worst feeling he'd ever had under his feet. He almost let his body fall on the bench were his towel and phone were waiting for him, and immediatly opened the screen. The amount of notification, again, put him on the nerves again, if not a lot more than what it was already. It was the same than before. Birthday stuff. This time, he didn't even took the time to dismiss the unwanted notifications, going through al of them to reach what he needed. The name was written big again, and with his heart beating fast from his pain and need to read, he pressed his thumb on the conversation. 

**Ota-bee : "I wish you can tell me soon irl"**

Yuri stared for a moment at his screen, unsure about wht he was reading at all, read again his own "fuck you" sent to Otabek and there he stare again at the weird sentence. Well. What did he mean? That he wanted Yuri to actually tell him to fuck off? Wait, irl, like In Real Life, but still? Did it mean that he wanted to see him again? Like, for real? Or did he just mean that he wanted to be fuck-- 

When his train of thoughts started to digress, Yuri felt his face turning hot and red, and he immediatly ran a han all over his face. His cold fingers should be enough to make him think about something else and cool his mind, but there was no way to make it better at that very moment. 

Or maybe yes, there was a way. Mila and Yakov were watching him, he finally noticed, and his hot mood suddenly went back to the normal. He mumbled nonsense to himself, sighed and felt a bit lost before answering to Otabek. 

**Yura : "really"**

The Kazakh didn't waste time before writing back, and Yuri wondered what time it could be for him to be so fast on his phone. 

**Ota-bee : "what"**

**Ota-bee : "it's been a while"**

Yuri couldn't stop staring at the screen. He could feel his heart flustering in his chest, didn't really wanted to know why but Oabek words appearing on the screen one after one were something. Oh, it was here again. That soft and warm feeling spreading in his body and mind. Was he smiling? Probably, so as soon as the thought hit him, he put a hand on the lower part of his face to hide. 

Otabek didn't stop at that, didn't wait for an answer from him. 

Ota-bee : "three months is a bit too long i guess" 

Yuri felt his heart make a huge loop in his chest again and, not pretty sure about how to react at it, he looked on his right, on his left, up the bleachers, then on the rink where Mila was skating with an amazing energy. 

He didn't know what to answer. Three months, he had to agree with Otabek, were too much. But, for what? Too long since the day they met? Chatting through social network for three months was too much, maybe? 

When Mila's gaze came to him, Yuri lowered his eyes to his phone again and he rubbed his cheek with his free hand. Shit. He could feel the soft burn of his skin there, it might be red or something. But she didn't say anything and actually he wouldn't mind at all. Otabek had written again. 

**Ota-bee : "Hey flower"**

**Yura : "?"**

**Ota-bee : "I miss you dumbass"**

_Fuck._ Yuri's mind was racing, coming to nothing at all in the end. The sound of skates on the ice didn't reach his ears anymore. Yakov voice wasn't so annoying and felt like miles away from him. There were Victor's and J.J.'s voices above his head and he turned a little to look at them. They sightsaw his move, because they instantly stopped talking to met his gaze. J.J. was still smiling, and even if it wasn't as bright as the true and stupid J.J. he knew, it was still better than earlier. 

He couldn't answer Otabek, but an idea had somehow blossomed in a corner of his head and Yuri stood up. A few steps after, he was almost at their level and glanced up at the two men. 

"Hey," he started. 

"Hi, Yuri!" Victor greeted him with his abusively stupid face and smile. "Happy birthday! You're a big boy, now!" 

"What the..." But Yuri stopped himself pretty quickly before bringing both them in a new quarrel they didn't even need. He knew it, he knew that he shouldn't have flared up so easily –but it was his feature. Instead, he bite his low lip, mumbling. "T-thanks..." 

J.J. raised his eyebrows, eyes suddenly bright. "Oh my, you're right, I didn't say it this morning I think! Happy birthday boy!" 

"Uh, thanks...Say, Victor?" 

Yuri got a curious look from the man. Slightly leaning toward him to ear what Yuri had to ask, Victor was slowly tangling and untangling his fingers without thinking so much about it. "Yeah?" 

Yuri gave a quick look at J.J. and the man immediatly guessed what it would be about; he hold on a smile and shrugged gently. 

"What about the Spring gala?" Yuri asked with no more tact. After all, J.J. had brought the subject already, and if anything had been hidden it wasn't his faut nor Yuri's. He needed to know. The Spring gala was pretty important and three months ater winning this gold medal, he needed to show what he was able to do now. 

"Oh." 

Victor turned to J.J. raising an eyebrow at him. "You told him, right?" At the simple nod, Victor sighed softly. His hands stopped moving with no reason and he rubbed them on his trousers. His shoulders had tensed up a little and he was frowning a little, focusing on a point before him. But not on Yuri. 

"How to say?" He murmured. "Not that we wanted to hide anything, right? Wait a second..." 

Victor stood up for a few second, hand cupping around his mouth as he screamed. "YAKOV! GONNA TELL YURIO!" And the old man only made a annoyed face, if not red to the ears. 

The man turned his attention back to Yuri. "Well, see that grandpa? Don't mention his lack of paternity, okay? He could be my grandfather, really...He's all shy and that stuff, see!" 

"Victor..." Yuri sighed, gripping his phone tightly in his hand and for a second he wondered why he tried to ask Victor instead of Yakov. But Victor finally continued, more serious. 

"Do you know why you're training with Mila lately?" he asked. 

"Duet," Yuri automatically answered. 

"So?" 

Victor's smile was genuine and simple. Not the dumb one he was having on his face most of the time. Yuri found himself insecure in front of the man. 

"I...I know I'm training for skating with someone, probably Mila as a couple duet, for exhibitions, but I don't see--" 

"You're training with Mila because she's the strongest person we have at the moment," Victor corrected. "We were actually planning to tell you soon, as the Gala is in twenty days now. Don't look at me like that! I said SOON! Like, uh, today or tomorrow, or after tomorrow, but really, soon!" 

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" Yuri suddenly spit out. "Say it!" 

"Okay okay! You're gonna be paired on the Symphony N°9 with your duet for the Spring Gala and be the main attraction, it was meant to be a surprise as you're turning sixteen this month!" 

Yuri was speechless at that. They dared. They dared plan something like that and put him aside like a kid, not even checking if he even wanted to-- 

His phone suddenly felt heavier in his hand as something hit his mind. Victor was already standing before his bench and screaming at Yakov again. "YAAAAKOV YOU WERE RIGHT HE'S JUST SOOO MAAAAD!" 

"Victor, what do you mean...Wait a second, stop yelling like a fucking dog!" 

Victor obeyed pretty nicely. His ice blue eyes looked down on Yuri as he was still standing in front of him, and a smirk stretched his lips. During a second, Yuri felt like he was facing the old Victor he'd always known, the one he was before the first time he met Yuuri Katsuki. Before that dancing night. 

"What I mean? I think you already know what's the meaning of all this, Yurio." Victor said quietly. "J.J., I have to leave both you, I have to do some things. See you right after for lunch?" 

J.J. nodded with a funny smile. And moved a little his legs for Victor to pass and leave. Yuri wasn't talking, nor trying to stop the man, only staring t his back, then his body when he was going down the stairs and joining Yakov beside the rink. 

With a quick glance at J.J. who remained silent –and somehow it felt scary as the man was litterally staring at him, Yuri went back to his message box, checking Otabek's conversation, and instantly blushed when he read again the last sentence sent by the Kazakh. 

"J.J.," Yuri half whispered, half moaned, and he knew he had caught his attention right away. "How did you know, for this morning?" 

"Whaaaat? Didn't like me saving your cute ass?" J.J. laughed genuinely and all yuri could do was pouting at the man. J.J.'s fingers were twiddling with a small thin gold ring around his finger. Around his left ring finger to be exact. "Oooh right, right, I know you didn't recognize me at first, ok? I've felt sorry for not being him, you looked pretty sad to see the amazing King of the Ice instead of the Prince, boy." 

Yuri was red. Definitively. From his neck to his ears, he was red and hot, it felt like his skin was burning in hell and J.J. was just fighting a huge laughter at his lost facial expression. Oh dear god. What was that? 

"W-what do you mean?" Yuri deeply growled. 

"Ah, your death gaze isn't very convicing today," J.J. ribbed. 

"Shut up! Why can't you simply answer instead of silly talking all the time?" 

"Are you hot? You're amazingly red! That's just freacking cute!" 

"Stop that!" 

"What's with your phone by the way?" J.J. continued. "You're blushing whenever you look at it." 

Yuri felt his face go even hotter at these words and he couldn't help hidding himself behind his palm, looking again at the screen. 

**Ota-bee : "sorry sorry srory taht sounded so gay im sorry"**

**Ota-bee : "that*"**

**Ota-bee : "sorry*"**

**Ota-bee : "shit"**

"Uh, errr, nothing, it's ok," Yuri mumbled to J.J. but his attention kept caught by his phone, until a soft sound reach his ears. A camera. He lifted his eyes with a threatening scowl to J.J. and his cellphone's camera pointing toward him. J.J. was already typing on his screen pretty quickly and Yuri didn't waste a second more being motionless. 

"H-hey, what are you doing, jerk!?" 

"Mmmhhh who knows?" J.J. made a blase face for a second then suddenly burst in laughters at Yuri's finger pointed on him. "Oh my, my, my...Don't be that upset, princess!"  
  
"I'm not a fucking princess!" 

J.J. shrugged it away, putting his phone in his pocket. "You're right, rather the 'Prince fucker' now I guess? Still cute in a way." 

"What the...What are you even talking about!? Oh my god, why can't you answer my question for fuck's sake!?" 

"Sorry sorry!" .J. waved at him with his hand, smiling softly but still amused by their conversation. "So, what is it all about?" 

Yuri sighed. Having a proper conversation with J.J. was always a pain in the ass and that was probably the first time he was actually trying to have one. "When you helped me, you knew what you were doing, didn't you?" 

J.J. stared at him for a moment at that, his gaze intense, and it made Yuri feel a little uneasy. Eventually, J.J. shrugged again. "Well, I guess that everyone know how much of a trouble it is when it comes to you and your fanclub. We all remember your last birthday, right?" 

Yuri winced deeply at that. He had to hide for several hours in a clothing store and could only go outside after dressing up like a girl. His grandfather never accepted to throw the dress away after he came back home, probably because he'd never laughed so much in his life. The worst was, with no doubt, the picture of him that was taken secretly and sent on social network through an anonymous account. 

"I remember," he growled. "But how did you know where I was?" 

"Fate?" J.J. tried. 

"Fucker." 

"Everyday," and J.J. suddenly sighed. There was a weight on his face that settled pretty quickly and he leaned a little, his forearms resting heavily on his thights. "I've been talking to Otabek a little lately." 

The name immediatly soothed Yuri, and J.J. glared at him before letting a little smile lingering on his lips when he noticed how attentive he'd suddenly become. "He was pretty worried about you for today, probably thought that something bad might happen. He wasn't so far from the reality in the end." 

Yuri sallowed thickly, mind racing again on the probabilities. "Did he asked you to come here?" 

J.J. shook his head a little. "I told him I had to go to Moscow anyway and that I could give a look. So he told me when you would leave home. That's creepy, I know, I've felt like a fucking stalker, Jesus! But him knowing so much about your daily routine sounds even more creepy. How comes he knows that perfectly your everyday planning?" 

The reason? Yuri wasn't sure, but there was the perfect answer, the perfect excuse in a corner of his head. Something that left everything weird behind them and so they wouldn't think too much about it. 

"We..." But even if it was easy in a way, there was that part, that shy part of him, that hardly said it out loud. "We're friends, that's why..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I have to say : I LOVE J.J. SO MUCH. That guy is just magical :'D Of course, something dark is all around him, but you'll know it and well...You'll see! 
> 
> Tell me what you thought about this chapter, what do you think is going to happen next? ;D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That day sucked. So much. So when Yakov told him to join them at Victor's place at the end of the day, Yuri was only hopping for the worst. He didn't know hom right he was. Dear god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god (again)  
> I'm just so happy with your messages on the 3rd chapter, I don't even know how to thank you proprly for that but thank you so so so so so much dears!  
> I got a little carried away, and I'm already done with chapter 4...Enjoy ? < 3

_That's why we care,_ Yuri had silently thought, and the idea of keeping this to himself had felt so right and wrong at the same time, that he was even more lost than before, here in front of J.J. and his intense looking. 

Ater that, he'd left the rink, choosing to stretch as much as possible, and J.J. hadn't stopped him in any way. From his looks, Yuri could tell that the man appreciated some peace and solitude. He didn't know why but still, he knew it, he could feel it, by the way J.J. often spaced out, his eyes zoning with no particular point. He needed some space. Why the fuck the guy had come to Russia, by the way? 

Yuri grimaced when his body betrayed him, keeping him far from his usual stretching goal with a deep pain irradiating his knees. 

Lilia wasn't present today for the training, busy on many plans, and he had to face the empty room. It wasn't silent since he'd put on the CD reader that was set in a corner of the room, and Allegro Appassionato in B minor was playing in a low tone. He needed to focus on something he knew perfectly, and if this performance hadn't been his best for the final, it was still a great program. He knew it too. Lilia wouldn't stop arguing about what was right or wrong and in the end it just got on his nerves and made him unreceptive about all that. He'd done it, not by far but still, he had won. 

At that moment already, he'd felt it on the ice rink; the pain coming from nowhere but his own growth. The sudden feeling had almost made him fallen. Almost but it was here he couldn't do it right. 

Yuri growled when his back abruptly complained at his usual arching but he didn't listen. He couldn't. It wasn't of him to be like that and the idea of not being able to work like he used to was just unbearable. Stretching on the soft floor, Yuri finally raised his eyes to the mirror wall of the ballet room. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him. He knew about boys changing pretty quickly into men, he'd heard a lot about it, but it wasn't possible. 

He was taller than Otabek. Soon he would probably larger. But not now, he tried to reassure himself. Not now, he was still slim, probably not as much as he used to, if had to take J.J.'s words, but from what he could see in that huge mirror, he wasn't build like Chris or J.J. and it was all he could think to feel better. 

Or Otabek. He wasn't as large as Otabek, he was sure. He quite hoped, actually. Sighing, Yuri caught his phone again and went through his news feed before judging that no, he wouldn't get what he was looking for in it. He left the application, checking in his saved pictures and finaly found it: that picture from the Grand Prix Final he found last night. Otabek's tiny smile made his heart beating accelerate but he tried to focus on the body only. Despite his white clothe on the upper part of his body, despite the waistcoat hiding a little his strong, powerful chest, Yuri was able to say how muscular and amazing was Otabek's body. It had nothing to see with his at the moment. Would he become like him someday? He let his eyes trailed down on what he could take from the picture : the neck, the shoulders, the chest. That waist, perfectly shaped, and he could remind every moves, every twist of his performance he'd seen on that DVD so many times. The barrier of the rink hide whatever was present after that, but Yuri knew by heart the shape of the low waist, of those absolutely perfectly shaped ass cheeks and--

He suddenly stopped when his body reminded him about how tight his spandex trousers were and two seconds after the young boy was cursing all he could against himself. Oh shit, shit and shit, what the fuck was he doing, what the fuck was he even thinking, looking like that at Otabek? 

He rushed to the toilets, running in the corridor and not giving much attention to who he was crossing and hitting with his houlders –he definitely was too large and should start living with it, no matter how he disliked it. 

But that wasn't the problem here, and as soon as he was locked in a toilet cabin, he sighed loudly. At least here, there was no risk to be seen in such a state, and he mumbled at the idea of being caught with the beginning of an erection in the middle of the ballet room. He winced. That was probably the grossest thing that could happen.  
There was no music here and the silence started to overwhelm Yuri. That was something he hated pretty much, and he started checking his phone to get rid of every thoughts he was having. Otabek's butt and this disgusting silence. Otabek's butt. Otabek's nicely shaped ass. Otabek's--

Shit. 

Otabek had sent a new message. Yuri gulped a little a first, then slightly remember that no, Otabek wouldn't never know about what was happening. It was ok. He was just fucking hiding in the toilets, his stomach doing a flip because of the sudden stress. 

**Ota-bee : "alive flower?"**

Yuri hadn't answer to his apologies from before, locking himself in his stretching training. It probably was the great moment to chat a little, at least it would take his mind out of all that mess. 

**Yura : "im not a fucking flower"**

Even if, he had to admit, he was unable to dislike that small nickname from Otabek. But he wouldn't say it. 

**Yura : "im alive"**

**Yura : "tired"**

**Ota-bee : "training too much?"**

He hesitated a little on the answer. Ith his other hand, Yuri pulled a little on the crotch of his trousers to allow a little more room for his current problem. He knew it was still early, but it hadn't decreased for now and the time was flying by too fast. 

**Yura : "kind of. i suck at skating today lol"**

He sat on the toilet seat, trying to gather himself back. Stressing over something that stupid would only make things even worse. 

**Ota-bee : "you suck? make me laugh"**

Yuri sighed. If he wasn't going to say all his problems to Otabek, at leat some little things wouldn't hurt...?  
They were friends. And if that word was pretty new, with an amazing meaning to him, Yuri knew that he could, maybe for once, complain a little. Just a little. 

**Yura : "falling too much, yakov yelled"**

**Ota-bee : "be careful, where are you now? Nursery? Youre ok?"**

**Yura : "toilets"**

**Ota-bee : "wtf you doing in the toilets?"**

**Yura : "shit"**

How could he be that stupide? Hands shaking stupidly around the plastic frame of the cellphone, Yuri pursed his lips. He hadn't even taken the tie to process and actualy think about what to answer to Otabek but he knew that should haven't said where he was right now. If the guy was to discover his problem, it would be the end of the world. Of his world. The ' _I'm hiding in the toilets since I've a fucking boner because of your fucking hot ass_ ' was definitely not the thing to say and Yuri gulped loudly at that. Not to mention that he was definitely having a problem, a huge one, if his body reacted that easily to...Everything and nothing at the same time? 

He hated teenage. It was the worst thing in the world. 

A look at his phone and he sighed out of relief : Otabek had replied. Like a stupid again, but it was for the best and Yuri rushed on the first possible answer he could get from that. 

**Ota-bee : "what? you shitting? With your phone?"**

**Yura : "fuck you im sick"**

Ok It was a lie. Yuri didn't like it a lot, actually he totally disliked it, but it wasn't a situation where he could say the truth. Right? Plus, uh. It was quite true in a way. He was sick. Teenage was a fucking awful illness and it was currently making him weak in the knees, and his whole body ache with pain most of the time. 

**Ota-bee : "what"**

**Ota-bee : "are you alone now? You should vomit if you not ok"**

**Ota-bee : "where s yakov"**

**Ota-bee : "and vic"**

Otabek's concern made a sof twarmness spread in Yuri's chest and the hint of guilt just hit right at it. But for both their goods, he just couldn't say what was going on. Like...NEVER. 

****Yura : "its ok im not a kid!"** **

****Ota-bee : "but youre sick dumbass"** **

****Yura : "just stomach"** **

Actually a little under. But well. Uh. Yuri sighed again, pulling again on the fabric of his trousers and the feeling of the soft friction against his crotch almost made him see stars and he rolled his eyes to himself, mouth tightly shut to hold back a little moan -of SURPRISE of course. Oh dear, no way. 

He had to get out of this. Quickly. 

****Ota-bee : "does your grandpa have smthg for stomach?"** **

****Yura : "yeah yeah"** **

****Ota-bee : "wonder why i don't believe you"** **

It was a curious idea, Yuri thought, even if Otabek was fucking right. He frowned a little nonetheless. 

****Yura : "tch"  
Ota-bee : "take care of yourself man"** **

Yuri caught himself smiling, and somehow it was hard to imagine himself here right now, his hand stretching the fabric of his trousers between his legs, sitting on the toilets while typing on his cellphone. What a trash, he thought. 

****Yura : "yeah yeah"** **

****Ota-bee : "dont yeah yeah me man"** **

****Yura : "yes mom"** **

****Ota-bee : "…"** **

Yuri kept a small laughter back, picturing what Otabek's hard features could look like right now. Somehow it was funny and at the same time, he only could imagine it soft, sweet. Nice. His heartbeat didn't suddenly speed up. His face didn't violently burned to turn hot like hell. There wasn't that ashaming feeling going down his stomach to his guts as he was genuinely thinking about his friend. 

There was something else, something he didn't really get. It was just the sweetest feeling, the nicest idea of 'something',yet he was unable to put a word on it. It was like how he felt happy whenever Otabek came to talk to him, every of his words, the simple thought of his smile, of his gaze to him, like during those few days in Barcelona. 

Yuri blinked a little. He felt great. Just thinking about this had made him smile. He just needed to talk to Otabek, and it wasn't the fist time he was realising it. Everything would be ok. There was no need to rush, no need to fear that much. 

It took him a little longer to calm down his boner. Patience had never been his thing, plus the stress of being caught locked after more than half an hour in the toilet cabin didn't help him at all. But he was feeling better, lighter. Slowly, he'd let go of the fabric of his trousers, rubbing a little the painful seam between his legs with the tip of his fingers. It made him shiver, of course -he knew it would but wearing that thing again was definitely out of question. When he stood up, the whole dark leggins told him how tight it was, pressing around all his muscles as much as possible. 

He had to change, now, he sighed while opening the thin door of the cabin. In the room, there was a sall and round figure at the sinks, washing his hands. Yuri took place at the sink beside, silent at first. Then, he started. 

"Yakov, I..." 

"After training," the man cut, "come to Victor's flat. We have to talk. Don't eat before, we'll get something for the night." 

Yuri swallowed thickly at Yakov's words. It asn't the first time they were having something like that. Usually, it wasn't for good news, so the lump quickly came deep in his throat.  
"Y-yeah," he murmured. The feeling of water running on his skin made him shiver even more than his fingers in the cabin. Differently though. 

After that, Yakov had quickly disappeared, leaving Yuri alone with himself again. His phone buzzed softly beside the sink where he'd put it while washing his hands. 

****Ota-bee : "celebrating bday tonight?"** **

Yuri sighed. How wonderful. The night would be long, not in the way he woud have liked. He hadn't planned on celebratinghis birthday at all; he was alone at home and the only thing that sounded pretty good was spending his time on his computer, scrowling down his news feed and chatting with Otabek until the young man would fall asleep. It would still be early, since they had three hours of difference between their countries, but this program was probably the best he had in mind. 

Not...That. Would it be about the Spring Gala? Yuri finally had no idea what was really going on, Victor's words still lingering in his mind. He'd thought about something, of course, Mila was the strongest person they had in store for him to train with, so? He'd had imediatly thought about Otabek, of course. More probably because of the theme for the duet, which was the most powerful program the Kazakh had performed under his eyes. But if Victor had left with a very light clue, letting him hope, Yakov hadn't said anything. 

Worse. 

Otabek had never even talked about the Spring Gala to him. Never. It was in twenty days, as Victor had reminded him earlier. Not that Otabek had much time left. If they had planned to make them as a duet, the young man would already be preparing his coming to Moscow. But he was busy like...Casually busy. Training, classes, training again, like Yuri every day passing. 

Yuri didn't stop by the ballet room, heading to the changing room. He didn't know what was going to happen, but he just couldn't let thing escape that far. He had to work, no matter who he would be paired with –even if he wasn't one to easily match with anyone. They all fucking knew it, so what were they thinking about? 

After lunch, Yuri didn't took the time to talk to anyone. J.J. was stuck with Victor, laughing frequently –it sounded like a good thing, but the blond boy ignored them when they tried to catch him to eat. None of them talked about the fact that Yuri had returned to his casual clothes, his deep scowl printed on his face, and he even heard the word "pouting" and "kid" in the same sentence coming from Victor. But he didn't get the whole thing from that far, so he just cringed in silence. 

He closed himself in the viewing room. It was a small place, with a short old sofa in it, and a average TV screen able to play DVD videos. On a shelf beside the TV fourniture, a pile of DVD boxes. He checked amongst them for a few seconds but it didn't take him lng to find what he wanted : the same DVD he had got from Yakov three months ago. On the cover, 'Grand Prix Final 2016' was handwritten. The round letters were Victor's. 

hen the show started on the screen, Yuri had already set himself on the sofa, knees up to his chin, light off in the room to focus on the TV, on the body moving on the ice, on the music poundering in his ears. His moves. 

He had to concentrate. 

He had to learn, had to know more about this program. Because, even he wasn't paired with him, it as Otabek's program and he just couldn't fail at it. 

Yeah. 

He couldn't. 

Sometimes, he'd take a break, eyes burning from watching too much the video, again and again, fingers tight around the remote of the TV. His cellphone was set on his chat with Otabek and he occasionally gave a look at it. 

****Yura : "no celebration, no time, no friends?"** **

He would never mention how many time and how much pride it had taken to write this. Never, really. Otabek probably knew without being told. 

****Ota-bee : "no friends? i feel rejected"** **

****Yura : "not you dumbass"** **

****Ota-bee : "kidding"** **

****Ota-bee : "your grandfather didn't plan anything?"** **

****Yura : "na he's still not back"** **

****Ota-bee : "wtf youre alone!"** **

Yuri had giggled a little at it. Otabek sounded pissed of, even shocked. Minutes ater minutes, Otabek was still answering, sometimes pretty fast, sometimes it was taking him more time and somehow Yuri wondered what he was doing. Training? He looked at the time. It was already past 4PM here in Moscow, so...It was something like 7PM in Kazakhstan. Evening training might have started for Otabek. 

****Ota-bee : "plus no time? What about night?"** **

****Yura : "meeting wth yakov & vic"** **

****Ota-bee : "they make you work for your bday night?"** **

****Yura : "dunno"** **

****Ota-bee : " :/ "** **

****Ota-bee : "i ll wait till you get home ok?"** **

****Yura : "what"** **

****Ota-bee : "nothing"** **

Yuri had uselessly scowled at his screen before going back to the video. He was tired, couldn't count how many times he'd watched it. He could get the essence of the moves, part of the logic in them. But he wasn't sure about how to put it into a duet. What's more, was he right to study Otabek's program for this? He'd automatically thought about this when he knew it was the Symphonia N°9 for the exhibition. But who would choregraph it in the end? 

He hadn't asked and had probably lose half his day in it –or not, he kind of really liked watching the show again and again no matter how many times he'd already watched it at home. 

He found himself pouting when he gave a look at the time. It was being late. Otabek would probably go to bed soon. 

Yuri sighed, and gave a try. It wouldn't kill him after all. Since when was it difficult to ask simple things? 

****Yura : "btw what about spring gala this year?"** **

****Ota-bee : "the what?"** **

That settled things. Otabek didn't know and it probably wasn't so surprising. He was far away –but so was J.J. on the other hand. But they didn't have the same weight in the ice skating world and Otabek wasn'probably wasn't invited in a lot of events all over the world. 

****Yura : "forget about it"** **

****Ota-bee : "ahah ok ok"** **

After that, the phone was stuck in his back pocket and soon he was closing everything in the small room. It was dark until he opened the door and the long figure in the enlighted corridor made him start a little. 

"J.J.!" He low mumbled, and the man lifted his attention from the phone he was so much into, eyebrows gathered in a thick line above his eyes. 

"Ah, they were right, you were here!" J.J. smiled, in that way Yuri didn't like. Something sad was sticking around the man, that was all Yuri could tell and it was a little too...Disturbing. He wasn't quite sure if it was the word he was looking for, but still, it was at least a part of what he was feeling about J.J. at the moment. 

"What are you doing here?" Yuri sighed, his bag under his arm as he was trying to zip up his coat with one hand. J.J. shook his head, coming closer to help the boy. 

"They're all gone but you," he said. "So I've been waiting, I even thought they were kidding when they told me to wait at this door." 

Yuri blinked at him, unsure. J.J. was defintely weird. More than he usually was. 

"Wait, why were you waiting for me?" 

"Well...It's nighty now?" 

J.J. had sounded like he had to think before answering and Yuri frowned. 

"And so?" 

"That's your birthday?" 

"And soooo?" Yuri insisted again. 

J.J. shove his hands deep in his jeans pockets as they'd started to walk in the corridor to the main hall. 

"There are fangirls outside waiting for you?" 

"I'm big enough." 

"In the dark," J.J. added, rising an eyebrow. 

"What the fuck are you trying to do?" 

"Nothing, really?" 

"Really?" Yuri sneered. 

J.J. rolled is eyes furiously. "Oh yeah, REALLY, prince fucker! Man, I don't even know why he's so much worried about you!" 

At his words, Yuri gave J.J. a dark look but still an interrogative one. 

"What?" 

"You know who I'm talking about, boy!" J.J. sighed. While talking, he was refraining a smile toward Yuri who looked a little out of the place at that moment. 

"Uh, you already talked about O—Otabek," Yuri mumbled. Otabek's name suddenly sounded heavy in his mouth in this silent hall. 

J.J. sighed at that. "Yeah, to be honest I didn't expect at all that he would come and ask to help you. He didn't need to ask for that, I'm not one to leave friends in shi--" 

Yuri had suddenly caught J.J. arm without a warning. "What? What do you mean 'come and ask'?" 

J.J. turned his gaze away. "Weeell..." 

"You didn't said it like that this morning," Yuri blamed. 

"Did I?" J.J. shrugged with a funny smile. "Don't tell Otabek, he tried to be discreet." 

It was awkward in every way, and J.J. definitely felt it too. He pat Yuri's back gently while opening the door and pushed the boy. "Princesses first!" 

"Fucking jerk!" 

On their way, they weren't alone.A lot of people were still waking outside despite the cold weather and Yuri adjusted his scarf around his neck. Victor lived near the the rink but it was enough walk to get frozen by the icy wind. Sometimes, Yurio could hear a high pitchy scream that reminded him of the girls from the morning and he winced. Every time, J.J. would put his hand in his back and the blond boy wasn't sure if it was mean to be reassuring for him or threatening for those girls staking on him –probably on both them actually as J.J. was incredibly famous, but no one seemed to know that he was here. 

When J.J. pushed the doorbell of the flat, Yuri huffed a little. "What are you doing?" 

"Uh? Well, I sleep here." 

"Wha--" 

There was a soft buzz in the intercom and J.J. leaned toward the mic. "Ah Victor, it's us." Then a low "Oh!" answered and Yuri frowned a little. They were the ones who wanted him to come, so why did he sounded to, how to say...Unready? Surprised? Or something else? 

"Not coming?" J.J. asked as he had already pushed the door after the slizzing buzz opening the building. 

"Mh, yeah, yeah." 

The staircase was only enlighted thanks to a poor bulb in a corner, so they had to take care of every step not to fall. 

"Hey Victor, how comes you leave in such a shitty place?" J.J. asked while entering the flat first. He'd let the door half closed on Yuri who cursed after the man, pushing quickly on it. 

But it wasn't like he was used to. Darkness were all around him, and the sound of the door slamming closed behind him made his heart jump. Oh shit shit shit-- 

With a cold sweat suddenly going down his spine, Yuri stepped further in the flat, a hand befor him in case he would bump into J.J., but it didn't happen. The man wasn't in his way. It was awfully silent, dark, and his stomach squeezed painfully with worries. What did that mean? 

"Vi--" 

A bang resonnated, making him jump on his feet with fear. Something light and soft like a paper rain was touching his face and the light was suddenly on. 

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" 

Victor was in front of him, A open papercraft tube in his hands and some multicolored confetti still on the back of his hands. For the first second, his face had been severe, in the same way as when they'd talk earlier that day, but his features suddenly lighted up, his smile softened while his ice blue eyes where loonking at Yuri. 

"Happy birthday," he repeated, more gently, and one of his hands let go of the thick tube to brush confetti away from Yuri's head. "Sorry, here you scared? We tried to prepare a little surprise." 

Yuri was just too voiceless to answer immediatly. Pretty agape, the boy looked atVictor with a lost expression, then at J.J. who still had his hand on the light switch beside the entry door, then at Yakov who was standing a bit setback, trying to hide his discomfort for being here -and probably his timidity. 

He swallowed slowly, mind blank. He'd wanted to run away at first -but the door was already close in his back. He didn't really liked surprises like this one, it was always weird and he was never sure if he'd react in the good way. Was it ok to smile, was it ok to let go of everything and show how much it was carrying him away with joy? Was it really ok? 

Wouldn't it be childish of his? WOuldn't it be used against him in the future? The young skater felt a pressure on his shoulder and he turned his eyes to his side. J.J. was standing here, hand heavy on him with a huge smile. 

"Birthdays are better with friends," the man said. "Don't you think?" 

Yuri nodded then kept his gaze on the floor. Friends, uh? He was still so insecure about that term, he'd been figuring out what it was like by being in long distance contact with Otabek for the last three months now. But somehow, it felt different. Victor moved his hand from Yuri's head to his other shoulder and brought him closer. It wasn't a hug or anything, really, but his arm brushing the man's sides was bringing him to a soft feeling, something sweet spreading in his chest -not as much as when Otabek was talking to him, but still. He wasn't alone. He wasn't alone, and that very idea made him a bit ashamed of all those awful thoughts crossing his mind all day long. They knew. They knew him, they knew that something was going on, they knew that he was changing, little by little. Every day, theyre were here, by his sides. For years already. He nodded again, slowly, lips tightened in a thin line. 

On the small round table, Yakov was placing a large plate with something that looked like a cake -probably? It looked a bit weird but he had never heard about Victor's cooking skills before, nor Yakov's. 

A small pack was here too, wrapped in a red paper with small snowflakes and Yuri reminded the day Victor had bought it in Spain to wrap Yuuri's Christmas gift. 

"He-hey, Yuri, are you ok?" Yakov mumbled. The blond boy could see the old man's ears as red as it was humanly possible. 

The blond boy could see the old man's ears as red as it was humanly possible and it made him smile a little. But he drop his gaze back on the floor. "Yeah, yeah..." All this just was so unusual that he didn't know how to move at all, and he let Victor lead him to a chair. 

"Oh my, Yurio, don't make that face! Ah, J.J., I told you he would be all pouting and that!" 

"Yeah but that's a cute reaction, coming from your baby tiger! Look at that princess, eh! I'm pretty glad we could make it in the end." 

Yuri blushed a little at J.J.'s voice in his back. 

So, was that what they'd been actually talking about? Was it the reason why nobody even tried to look after him for the whole afternoon? Not that he'd really gave attention about that point, but it had felt odd sometimes, with hours flying away with only the sound of TV, the screen shining in the dark and his cellphone buzzing softly near his thight from Otabek's chatting. 

His cheeks felt hot, and he doubted it was because of the heat in the room. Victor patted his shoulder again before sitting beside him. Yakov was already in place, trying to avoid every eye contact with the boy; it was obvious that the old man wasn't feeling at his place and at the same time he was fighting not to smile because it probably wouldn't be him. Being grumpy, looking grumpy, was more his way of showing his affection and Yuri perfectly knew it. 

"I, uh..." 

Yuri hesitated. Oh, shit. His painful knees just felt so weak at that moment, he was pretty happy to be sitting right now. 

"Th-thank you...," he murmured. His eyes were focusing on the cake, something chocolate flavour related if he had to guess about what it was made of. Even the shape was pretty approximate and he wondered how they manage to have such a weird shape for a simple cake. Probably the magic of noobs. 

Yakov nervously laughed, yet gently -and it ended as a long cough to hide it. 

"Eh?" J.J. scoffed. "Oh my god, I could have killed just to see your face right now, you know that? Thanks god I don't have to become a murderer." 

"Sh-shut up!" 

Laughters soon overwhelmed him. Victor was soft all the evening, like he'd never been before -or for so rare occasions and not to Yuri especially. Stuck with the three men, Yuri could only feel the soft buzz of his phone in his back pocket, but social respect always told him not to look at his phone when he was with people. He would answer Otabek later -or whoever it was. By the time, the Kazakh had probably fell asleep for long. J.J. on the other hand, gave frequent looks at his own cellphone, only checking the screen then shutting it quickly. At Victor's worried gaze, the man shrugged discreetly, then shook his head and went back to the conversation. 

The cake had been surprisingly...Good. Even if it was impossible to guess what was the real flavour in it, it did taste good. Yakov simply refused to answer their questions and the three men ended pouting and eating at the same time. It wasn't really sweet like a cake used to be and at the same time there wasn't salt in it -or at least, not a salty taste. Uh. They weren't able to get it but still, it ok. It was good and Yuri even thought about asking the recipe for his grandfather. The old man had called earlier in the afternoon when Yuri was watching Otabek's performance; sick from catching a bad flue, he was stuck at his friend's house. His voice had just been so sad in Yuri's ears, the boy didn't let himself feel bad for being alone on his birthday. His grandfather didn't deserve any reproach, and somehow he was glad that the man could take some rest, far from his family reponsabilities. 

"Hey, Yurio," suddenly said Victor. His hand pushed a little on the gift still wrapped near Yuri's plate closer to the boy. Yuri blushed a little, mumbling about how much a gift wasn't necessary and J.J. laughed. Almost too loud for Yuri not to get alled on that and he gave a death gaze of his. 

"What?" 

"Just open it, princess." 

It was loose under the paper, Yuri noted when he put his fingers on the package. It didn't take him long to rip the thin paper off, and he dig his finger into something soft. A dark fabric was inside and he caught it with both his hands, spreading it before him. A tee-shirt, a dark one actuallyeasily one size bigger than the one he'd tried to wear in the morning. He smile at the huge white tiger printed on the front, ready to attack. That wasn't bad, eh. There was another clothe in the paper, and J.J. caught it for him, doing the same as Yuri with the tee shirt to show it. It was simple, plain, black. A fucking new trousers for his training and the boy felt his face become red and awfully hot from the shame. J.J. was laughing again. 

"I don't even feel sorry," he said. "It might be a little large at first but you sure will grow again, so we don't worry about it!" 

Victor was barely holding a smile at that, nodding. "I agree. Even if it was quite nice to look at, I'll miss your boxers!" 

"Y-you--! How dare you--!" 

Before Yuri could even say anything, even if words wouldn't come and the boy was just lost in his shoes, Victor moved the rest of paper and pointed it with his chin, winking to Yuri. 

"I guess there's something else for you," he murmured. 

J.J. had suddenly stopped laughing and his sudden attention made Yuri uneasy. What was that guy's problem after all? 

Under the undone pack of clothes, there was a letter. Not something huge, a normal size, like a postal card. There was nothing written on it, nor been stamped -it hadn't been posted or anything. 

"Open it?" Victor offered as Yuri was staring at it, turning it between his fingers as if there would be something suddenly appearing on it, a clue, anything? 

"Yeah yeah..." 

It was really a card. A double-sided one, folded on its middle so he had to open it to read if there was a message -there had to be something written, right? But he didn't lay it out at first, staring at the photograph on the cover. It was a rather simple scenery. A street under the snow. There was that tree. That barrier before the house. 

There were those damn red curtains behind the large windows. 

Yuri was already holding his breath at all of this. He knew that place, he knew all of this, and his heart started to beat in his chest, so hard that he wasn't sure if he wanted to open it. He didn't care about the loud silence around him -usually he would have been the one to make some noise, yelling at someone just not to drown in the heavy silence that used to make him so nauseus. 

But here, he was just surrounded by the sound of his own heart beating so hard, so hard in his ears, and the small lump about to form deep in his throat. 

When he opened it, his fingers were shaking, and he hated himself for being that weak. 

At first, he didn't read it. His eyes just followed the trail of the dark pen on the ivory thick paper. The soft loops of the letters, ready to lean on the right of the card. But soon, he was drowning on the few words written there, voiceless again. 

Victor leaned on him a little. Yuri could feel his smile in his words, even if he wasn't looking at the man at all. "Isn't it great? What are you go--Oh my god, Yuri, are you c-crying!? YAKOV PLEASE DO SOMETHING!" 

"WHAT!? J.J. DO SOMETHING!" 

"FUK YOU OLD MAN!" 

It was stupid. Yuri nodded slowly at whatever they were saying and Victor dramatically screamed. It was the most stupid situation ever. Why was he even crying? He couldn't read the words anymore because of that and it was freacking annoying. But he didn't need to read it again, the words printed on his retina. 

****

**_"Dear flower,  
Please, skate with me?  
Your bee"_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So well, uh, here we are! \o/ Dears, I love J.J., HE RULES THE FANFICTION ! XD 
> 
> I love you all, already working on chapter 5, I really hope that you liked this one! I'm waiting for your reactions >w


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Otabek's gift, Yuri isolated himself to get back to his normal self. But...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here again!  
> I don't know how comes I keep the things going on like that but I'm crossing fingers for all that to keep working! XD  
> Enjoy ! < 3

Yuri didn't have to ask twice : Victor's door had quickly opened at his request for going on the balcony. With only his pull over, Yuri shivered a little when the window door slidded closes behind him. The evening hadn't been at all what he'd planned –and god knew he hadn't actually planned anything. 

He sighed, then tried to take a long breath, inspiring slowly. The cold air from the outside burned a little in his throat and rubbed one of his cheeks with a shaky hand. Oh, shit. In his other hand, there as the postal card, folded back like when it was in the envelope. He could see the house on the picture. He had immediatly recognized Oabek's home, Otabek's street, from the few pictures displayed in his feed on the social network. 

Snorting again a little, Yuri took his phone from his back pocket. The amount of notifications was still amazingly high, but like the reste of the day the boy didn't give any attention to that. Otabek's conversation was still on. 

**Ota-bee : "hey, are you feeling better?"**

**Ota-bee : "have fun ok?"**

There was nothing after this last message and Yuri forgot how to breath for a few seconds. 'Have fun'? In the end, he was finally understanding some little things. Otabek knew about tonight's surprise. Of course, he did. Or maybe not. When did he gave this letter? By the way, who did he gave it to? Yakov? Victor? J.J.? Someone else? Mila, maybe? Wait, why Mila? Because Victor compared both them and associated Mila to his training? 

And speaking of Otabek, what did all that meant? 

He was thinking, too much, too messly, couldn't manage to get any clue on anything, and in the end he didn't even know what he was thinking about, first thing.  
His thumb had suddenly crashed on Otabek's name and the screen became green, starting the call. Yuri wasn't sure if he would have someone at the other side. It was only ringing for now. 

_Once._

It was late, like...More than ten? More than eleven? He didn't remember well. 

_Twice._

He was pretty sure that Otabek was tired of his day, he hadn't sleep a lot the night before becaue of Yuri's birthday to greet. 

_Third_ ringing. 

What was he even calling him for? It wasn't-- 

"Hi?" 

_Oh, shit shit shit shit._ Otabek's voice in the microphone sounded so deep, so low, so...So Otabek, actually, and it quite took him appart. 

Yuri's heartbeat sounded like it was actually living in his ears, pounding so hard that it was amost painful, and he had to lean against the metal fence that was running aroung the balcony to hold with the reality around him. 

"Hey," he just answered back. He didn't really trust his own voice, but it came out by itself. 

There was an embarrassing silence for a few seconds more, during which Yuri opened the card, his eyes staring at the few words on it. His heart wouldn't stop beating fast and it was as scary as exciting. 

"I wondered when you'd call," Otabe finally said, and the amount of words startled the boy. At first, he nodded silently but immediatly realized it was pointless. 

"Sorry, got trapped...," he murmured. 

There was a soft giggle in his ear. Otabek sounded a little out of the time. Was he in bed? Had he awaken him with his call? It had to be so late for the Kazakh. 

"Yeah, I kind of happened to know about that," Otabek said. 

There was a sound, as if the skater was moving and soon Yuri could picture the sheets slip around him when shifting for a better position. Somehow, the image was breathtaking, and he felt himelf smile. 

"Where you sleeping?" He asked. 

"Who knows?" 

"Hey, I was meant to be nice!" 

"Yeah. And you are." 

It had been days, weeks actually, since their last casual call. Every time they used this way of communication, they always had a moment to adjust to each other until they fell into a comfortable discussion. 'Every time' was actually a big term for the two or three calls they had. 

Yuri sighed, maybe a bit too heavily because he head Otabek move again, and a moan reached his ear, taking him by surprise. 

"Uh?" 

"Ah, nothing. Just stuck in my sheets, wait a second..." 

Voice low, Otabek was mumbling to himself in a language he couldn't get, probably kazakh and the sound of those incomprehensible words only made Yuri half nervous half in peace with himself as it was giving him some time to get used to his voice. Even if he didn't uderstand a word of it, he liked listening to him and, as weird as it was, he never had any problem admitting it in public. It was even something he'd written once on Twitter and Otabek had purely refused to answer his call on that day. Later, Yuri had learned that the young man had a huge complex about his own voice. So well, having Yuri Plisetsky saying on social network that his voice was the sexiest thing a woman could hear at night wasn't the thing to do, really. What's more, Yuri didn't know a fucking thing about women and what they wanted. He just thought that Otabek's voice was the best thing to hear before sleeping, and he liked their rare late night calls when they happened. 

Otabek never openly reproached him about that tweet. 

"You're done?"Yuri asked. 

"Yeah, I—Ah fuck, get out _ecyac_! [1]" 

"Uh?" 

"Ah hum, the cat wants to play and she attacked...Uh, that hurts, _oh shit_!" 

Yuri blinked a little. "She attacked you?" He repeated. A loud miaowing resonnated in the microphone and Yuri laughed. A pretty long yet sleepy sigh echoed to his ears and Yuri had a loud shiver. This conversation wasn't going anywhere. 

"Mh? You're ok?" Asked Otabek at the sound. 

"Ah—yeah..." Yuri frictionned his arm with the back of his other hand still holding the card and it reminded him the real reason for his call. Even if Otabek didn't seem to mind. "Hey, tell me..." 

"Mmh?" 

Yuri giggled softly. " _My bee_? Man, are you serious?" 

In the microphone, Otabek first tsk-ed, but soon his soft laughter echoed to Yuri's. He sighed and a purr resonnated from not so far as the cat was probably back near the young man. 

"Uh..." Otabek startd with. "Why not?" 

Yuri felt like his jaw had suddenly hit the floor as the words and the probable meaning crossed his mind. What the fuck was he even saying? 

"Wha--" 

" _I MEAN_!" Otabek suddenly litterally screamed, as if getting conscious of what he had said. "Yours, like, uh, _YOU KNOW_!" 

Yuri laughed again. Hearing Otabek being so desperate and trying to explain himelf in panick over something he had said in a weird way was actually so much better than when he was writing it in a private message. 

"What should I know?" He breathed. 

His phone was being hot in his grip, and all he could hope was that the cell wouldn't turn off because of the battery. Otabek coughed a little, taken off gard by the question.  
"That's your fault," he murmured. His voice was low again, low enough to get drown on it and it as that perfect tone on which Yuri could close his eyes only to hear it. No one was watching him anyway; he actually did it. 

"My fault?" Yuri asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"You said that the end of my name kind of sounded like 'bee'. Forgot that?" 

"Uh? Na, I still think the same thing." 

"See!" 

Yuri blinked a little. Oh. Yeah of course, it did explain the situation. Otabek's nickname on Twitter hadn't always been Ota-bee. It was pretty new actually, the man using his real name at first when they started following each other on the social medias. Yuri just happened to notice the new name a few days after Otabek randomly updated it. 

"I don't see anything, dumbass!" 

"Tch! Heartless kid." 

"You finally get one point!" 

Once again, they laughed sotly and oh, how sweet it sounded. It was like being with Otabek, like being in that small restaurant on that night, back in Spain during the Grand Prix, talking together as if their lives depended on every word they were saying. 

"S-so," Otabek said again. "Are you skating with me or not?" 

As usual, Yuri thought, it was the 'Otabek thing' with his "Will you or not?" and the sudden urge, the sudden need for an answer ligered in the man's voice. Or maybe it was only Yuri's mind analyzing the whole situation, with that personnal hope about Otabek's wish. 

"I'm skating with you," Yuri felt his heart sped up a little at his own words. It wasn't something huge to say, still it sounded like more than a skate thing related. It always sounded like that with Otabek. 

The Kazakh let out a small sigh of relief. 

"I'm glad." 

It was like talking to him during that night, face to face. Yuri remembered the usually hard features and the way his face was softening hours after hours. Soft dimples at the corner of his mouth whenever he was smiling, the way the light were coloring his slightly tanned skin. If Yuri had to give his own opinion, Otabek was an handsome man, really. 

He sighed. 

"Yura?" 

The blond boy sighed again at the sound of his own name under Otabek's deep voice. It wasn't like being in front of him. It was just alike and so different at the same time. There was that lonely feeling, like being let aside and yet being able to communicate desperatly. 

"Hey, Otabek, I...Uh..." 

"Yeah?" 

Best voice ever, eh? Yuri wasn't sure about 'the sexiest' voice, but it was definitely a tone he liked to listen to. Somehow, he wished they could talk more often. 

"I miss you, bee." 

There were a few seconds during which Otabek didn't say anything, silent like hell, and Yuri moved a little against the fence. Before, he hadn't answred any o Otabek's messages going that way, didn't replied to his apologies for wriing such a thing without thinking twice. The Kazakh finally puffed a little, then laughed softly. 

"Yeah, me too flower," he breathed. 

"Flower sounds gay," Yuri grunted while tip toeing a little on the balcony. "And I...Oh shit!" 

"What's the matter?" 

Yuri had lifted his head up while moving, and his gaze had met...J.J.'s eyes. Face flat against the bay window of Victor's appartment, the man was devilishly smiling and taking pictures with his phone. Since when was he there, doing that? At the idea, Yuri felt his face turn red and hot. Wasn't it enough that they had to watch him cry for like, absolutly nothing? It had been enough to live, he didn't need the Canadian to take proves of...Of WHAT, actually!? 

"Yura?" He heard Otabek's voice call. "What is it?" 

"I'm going to kill J.J., see you Otabek, 'kay?" 

"Uh...Yeah?" 

"Bye." 

A laughter again in his ear, the soft sound of Otabek's head probably hitting his pillow as if he was litterally falling into it, and Yuri wasn't sure why his face was burning so much. 

"Yeah, bye. Call me tomorrow?" Otabek whispered. 

Oh shit. Now he fucking _knew_ why his face could be so hot. Who in the world wouldn't crave for such a voice to say something like that? 

"Y-yes, of course, yeah tomorrow," he precipitately stuttered. He, Yuratchka, just sounded so weird with only that sentence that it made him bite his low lip. But the sight of J.J. kind of allowed him to keep in mind where they were and he frowned at the brunet, and he babbled a last 'bye' beore shutting his phone off. 

A huge laughter was coming from the inside of the appartment –J.J. had left the window door, probably to join Victor and Yakov. 

But Yuri was definitely going to kill the guy. And destroy that fucking cellphone and all its content. Especially the pictures he'd been taking since morning. 

 

 

 

[1] Meant to be'idiot' in kazakh BUT tell me if I'm wrong XD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So well, this chapter might not have a lot of real content but this was a scene I needed to write for the story. Like, really. It was too much to be at the end of the previous chapter (I needed the 4th to end like it did) and too particular to be part of the next, so it ended as a full chapter and in the end it appeared that it's quite long anyway... X'D 
> 
> As usual... ALL MY LOVE FOR J.J. ! < 3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If training had become hard these weeks, it's even harder when you couldn't sleep enough and Mila is near you...But Georgi might be the worst. Really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sixth already! I'm still so hype when I read your amazing words on every chapters, I love you, I love your cute reactions, oh my god thank you so much all of you !

The next day, Yuri had waken up with some difficulties. He hadn't drunk last night for his birthday, as he was still underage for the two incoming years, but going home so late after the small party had just left him dead in his bed. Dealing with J.J. had been quite weird and totally impossible. Dark eyes had been looking down on him when he'd tried to get the man's cellphone, and the smirk on J.J.'s face was really pissing him off. Victor had soon stopped both them, claiming the phone as his -and it actually was true: J.J. hadn't been using his own cell the whole night and Yuri learned later that Victor had lent an old one of his to the Canadian. It seemed that his coming from so far wasn't that prepared as he hadn't made the advances for a journey phone credit. 

 

He'd tried to ask Victor –more or less roughly, violently, even threatened the man, but the skater never returned the phone, and didn't even bother answer to Yuri's rude words. 

 

"None of my business, boys," he'd said despite the protests. 

 

After that, the party hadn't last for long, and Yakov had drove him back home; it appeared that J.J. was really sleeping at Victor's during his stay. At the end of the evening (or the early morning? He wasn't sure), the man looked pretty exhausted and Yuri had suddenly remembered the huge jet lag between Russia and Canada. It was already quite impressive that J.J. had survived that entire time –or maybe he'd taken a nap in the afternoon before taking him to Victor's place. 

 

Speacking of J.J., Yuri hadn't seen any pictures of the small party on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr...He'd checked Victor's, J.J.'s, aven Yakov's account even though the old man wasn't one to take pictures and didn't quite understand how to upload a photograph, let alone make a publication alone. He used to ask Georgi or Mila when he needed some help. 

 

J.J.'s accounts on social medias didn't have anything new published since...Days. Weeks. It had made Yuri frown a little since J.J. had always been someone who posted a lot of things –especially things that made others feel like they wanted to punch him right in the face, and especially Yuri. But the last thing Yuri saw in tCanadian's feed was that selfie Isabella and him had taken together at the end of their wedding. He was still wearing her white veil, her dark hair hair tied up in an amazing bun that Yuri was petty sure it had taken hours to make due to the lack of lenght. 

 

"Wow, got new clothes?" 

 

At Mila's words, Yuri raised his eyes up to her as he was lacing his skates and nodded silently. With that gaze of hers, he knew that she was aware of what had happened the night before –or at least about that gift. Did she knew about Otabek, the incoming duet and why she was training so much with him lately? 

 

"You look a bit tired, is it gonna be ok today?" She asked sitting near on the same bench. 

 

"I'll go easy for today," he sighed. "Yakov's been pretty irresponsable for once, taking me home soooo late..." 

 

He knew for sure that Victor wouldn't be here in the morning : the man was a heavy sleeper and knowing that J.J. was at his place didn't help with that feeling. Before leaving his phone on the bench with his towel, Yuri gave an eye in his mailbox in case he would get a new message from Otabek. He actually hadn't been sleeping right away after getting home last night, sending some words to the Kazakh. The man had answered almost immediatly, putting his nerves to the edge. For God's sake, when was he even sleeping!? 

 

**Yura : "When are you coming in Moscow then?"**

**Ota-bee : "By the end of the week, I'll tell you"**

**Yura : "Ok then"**

 

Oh man. It had kept him from sleeping for a good couple of hours more and he wasn't sure if he had even sleep a complete hour that night. His brain was feeling like dead, not running properly to his liking –he didn't have strenght enough to answer back Mila's bad jokes. His body was painful enough to make him grunt even more than usually. But the idea of skating with Otabek Altin was somehow worth it. Well, not somehow. The simple thought of being able to stand by his side on the ice made his heart jolt and beat so hard that he wasn't sure if it was due to the excitment or the tireness or anything. 

 

Mila laughed gently, then patted his head with her thin hand. "You're a lot on your phone lately," she said. "Finally got a girlfriend?" 

 

Before he could even think about his answer, Yuri gave her a dark death glare as he was leaving his phone screen for a few seconds. "What?" 

 

"Wow, don't look at me like that, you're scary!" 

 

"Your fault! What kind of nonsense are you saying!?" Yuri spit. He had tightened his grip on the frame of his phone, his thumb pushing pretty fast on the main button to darken the screen. But she grinned anyway; he hadn't been quick enough for it not to be noticed. 

 

"Sooooo, what's her name?" She continued. 

 

Yuri grit his teeth. "There's no 'her', stupid!" 

 

She opened her eyes wild. "Oh! That's a 'he' then? I didn't know you were into guys!" 

 

Yuri coughed pretty hard at her suggestion and the lace slip off his hands as he was giving her the most threatening gaze of his. Or at least he tried but the sudden heat all other his face wasn't helping and he wasn't sure if being red to the ears was something convincing enough against Mila. 

 

"WHAT!?" 

 

"What 'what'?" She shrugged. "Aren't you?" 

 

"I'M NOT GAY OF COURSE YOU DUMBASS!" 

 

The silence that fell between the two of them suddenly took him deep and he felt a heavy lump forming in his throat as Mila was staring at him. Her gaze was as curious as puzzled. The few people not so far around the rink had turned their attention toward them and it made him feel pretty bad. But the young woman soon sighed softly, standing slowly. 

 

"Yeah," she simply said. "You're not, of course. Sorry if I've upset you, okay?" 

 

Once again this week, Yuri felt the guilt taking him deep in his stomach. Mila's features had suddenly changed and if he didn't know why, he knew it was because of what he'd just said. That subject was something he'd never really thought about. A girlfriend, or even a boyfriend, weren't something that had their place in his life right now. He didn't have enough time or energy for such things –let alone nobody was interesting enough in his current daily life to even consider the idea. 

 

"O-okay," he mumbled. 

 

She quickly left, gone for a little warm-up on the ice and Yuri sighed, pushing again on the button of his cellphone to enlight the screen again. Otabek was online and he counted. It was something like lunch time for the Kazakh and he didn't even got surprised when the picture of a plate full of letuce and chicken suddenly appeared in their conversation. 

 

**Ota-bee : "Seriously I feel like a girl on a diet"**

 

Yuri hardly held his laughter back. 

 

**Yura : "wtf why are you eating that?"**

**Ota-bee : "Coach said so?"**

**Yura : "don't tell me you're one to listen to your coach!"**

**Ota-bee : "why not, it worked pretty well till now"**

 

Yuri stared at it for a few good seconds, trying to imagine Otabek purposely doing whatever his coach would be asking him to do. Was his body, his final frame, his strength, the result of what his coach had decided? Or did Otabek himself asked for this. Their was something that Yuri knew about Otabek: his skills on the ice were ones that had make Victor coming back in competition, and for this the Kazakh was a serious rival. He had't been the only one to be that reason, of course, just a part of the story, but still. Victor had taken an interest on the young man –or, more specifically, his body. 

 

Yuri sighed. 

 

**Yura : "ok ok why not"**

**Ota-bee : "How is your training btw?"**

**Yura : "terrible"**

**Ota-bee : "?"**

**Yura : "wanna sleep"**

**Ota-bee : "Ahah same to be honest"**

 

He caught himself smiling at the written laughter; he coud imagine the soft giggle from the man, the dimples at the corner of his mouth and his eyes, sweet and dark at the same time as he would be shaking his head a little. 

 

**Yura : "Take a nap dumbass"**

**Ota-bee : "I will"**

**Ota-bee : "but it's kind of crowded here now"**

**Yura : "Really?"**

**Ota-bee : "Yeah small demo this afternoon"**

**Ota-bee : "Hope I won's sleep on the ice lol"**

 

Yuri huffed a little at the unusual 'lol' at the end of the message. It wasn't so...Not Otabek? The man wasn't one to use that type of shortcut –most of the time he typed full sentences, except sometimes when he was in a rush or something that kept him from being able to take his time to write properly on his cellphone. 

 

**Yura: "sleep now then?"**

**Ota-bee : "no way"**

**Yura : "man, you're stupid?"**

**Ota-bee : "We are chatting, i don't want to sleep now"**

 

Yuri had suddenly been holding his breath and the only thing that made him inspire again was Mila's call for him. Oh dears. What could he honestly answer to this when he only wanted to be a few days ahead of now? 

 

**Yura : "I'm off see you"**

 

Then he shove his phone between his folded towel layers to hide it at least a little and decided to finally join the young woman. What was that, seriously? Yuri didn't like what he'd just done, leaving Otabek so suddenly when the man had just said...Uh. Well, when he'd just said that. Had the Kazakh absolutly no pride to be able to say such a thing to a friend? 

 

"Hey Yuuuuriiiii!" Mila called again. 

 

With a deep sigh and a grimace at his painful articulations when he'd stand up, Yuri reached the young woman. Mila's hair was finally long enough to tie it up in a very small ponytail and it showed up her so little ears. With her pale skin and puckish blue eyes, let alone her deviish smile and than damn body of her, the boy was pretty sure she was incredibly attractive and might have tons of suitors. But he'd never seen her with someone until now. 

 

She watched him coming, hands on her hips and tsk'ed a little at him, making the blond raise a eyebrow. "Boy, you look sooo down! Are you really tired?" 

 

"I already fucking told you, Mila! They trapped me last night in Victor's apartment! I've barely slept, I'm DEAD, how can't you get something so simple?" 

 

She laughed a little at his mad expression. "Right, riiiiight!" 

 

Cheeks red from being suddenly annoyed, Yuri mumbled and started sliding on the ice to get used to the thing again during a few seconds. Here. Like that. He needed that. He wanted that soft feeling of air brushing his face, his body suddenly so light as it was heading straight on this line. His knees were still as fuck, the dull pain irradiating from his articulations to the muscles of his thights. Sometimes, it was unbearable and he wondered how he still hadn't given up on all that shit. 

 

Georgi soon joined them in the training. The man wasn't preparing the new season. If he hadn't retired, his life had slightly changed since he met his new girlfriend and to be honest, his personnality was way smoother than when he was dating that superficial Anya. 

 

"Hey, Yuri!" Georgi suddenly called. 

 

The boy stopped strenching his body at the sound of his voice and turned his attention to him. The man was scratching his head and slid with curiosity near Yuri before suddenly grabbing his sides with both hands. He earned a surprised sound. 

 

"GEOR--" 

 

"Are you injured or something?" He simply asked. 

 

Yuri blinked a little. "What?" 

 

Georgi was frowning a little, visibly concerned. "Aren't you?" He continued. "I thought so, your skating is quite different lately." 

 

The blond Russian froze a little at Georgi's words. Was it so obvious that something was happening? Had he been so freacking bad that even Georgi had noticed? Not hat Georgi was a bad skater, not at all, but he wasn't one to really care about others' way of skating. 

 

Yuri swallowed the lump in his throat with some difficulties. "I...Might have some cramps," he lied. Or rather, it wasn't completly a lie. He was, at least, admitting that something wasn't really ok. Georgi raised an eyebrow. 

 

"Aaahh, I was right then! Since when? Is it painful? You skate a little as if you had, uh, well..." 

 

"As if I had what?" 

 

"A tree up in your ass, actually." 

 

Yuri stared at the man for a moment, not sure if he had really heard what he had just heard. But Georgi was still standing before him, intensively thinking about the situation. 

 

"What the fuck did you say?" 

 

"Oh, I mean, you still skate like a damn goddess –DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, you were the prima ballerina after all!" 

 

"SPIT IT ALREADY POPOVITCH!" 

 

"But that's a bit weird, I mean, you're stiff and all that, like, well, I mean, that's just why I'm asking? You look so uncomfortable with your body right now, that's the weirdest thing I've ever seen from you!" 

 

"Shitty bast--" 

 

But Mila's hand suddenly on the top of his head stopped Yurio in his incoming colorful cursing litany toward Georgi. Her fingers were cold and her looks concerned. 

 

"What?" He growled. 

 

But she only shrugged a little with a small odd smile –and for once he was prtty sure it wasn't made out of pity. 

 

"Georgi, go train somewhere else," she said. "And leave us some room, ok?" 

 

"What the...Yeah, ok, ok!" 

 

The man mumbled when she scowled him a death glare, and Yuri could swear that he wouldn't have looked better himself at that 'dark eyes' game. Once Georgi was gone, or at least far away enough for her liking, she turned back to him. 

 

"So..." She grinned at the boy, stretching a little on place, arms above her head. "What can't you do anymore?" 

 

Yuri frowned deeply. "I didn't say I--" 

 

"I said," she cut out. "What can't you do anymore?" 

 

He clenched his jaw, almost painfully, silent for a few good seconds as she was staring at him. "Mila, I--" 

 

"Don't you want to dance with Otabek?" 

 

The question suddenly went out, lingering in the air for a moment as he froze. Before he knew it, she had put her arm around his neck, body close enough to his and wa whispering to hi ear. Her breath was hot, like damn, how could she be like that when the place was made of ice? 

 

"I'm here to teach you, Yuri," she murmured. "So, don't you want it? Dancing with him? Do you really think that you're powerful enough to be paired with the guy?" 

 

Powerful was the word. Yuri gulped despite himself at the memory of the srong body evoluating on the ice and Mila scoffed a little at his discreet reaction. 

 

"Now, you'd only be a pain in the ass for him, ok? You don't fit his style at all, and as I'm the one who know the choreo, I can tell that you have a lot to do in such a few time, baby tiger..." 

 

She laughed a little more openly at his decomposed expression, especially when his green eyes were looking for an escape on her face. She suddenly burst into a huge laughter this time, and gave a big hit in his back with her hand, making his cough so hard that he thought he was going to spit out his lungs. 

 

"Don't make such a face, babe!" She said. From the distance, Georgi was giving them a curious look, full with his lack of understanding. She didn't give him any attention. 

 

Yuri sighed, this time without holding hmself back. As tired as he was, Mila's words had made their way to his brain and he could feel the hint of excitment making his guts twitch with need. 

 

"Why are you doing this?" He asked. 

 

"Victor told me," she shrugged and he winced a little. "Plus, it's pretty funny to see you in this situation. And somehow..." 

 

She leaned a little, back to his ear. Her nose brushed against his lob and he gulped softly at the feeling. Dears. 

 

"...I wonder how Otabek would answer to such a strong and amazing danse with you, don't you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New characters...Georgi just HAD to be incredible and Mila is the queen! \o/ Yuri's gonna be so dead in the end AHAHAH ! 
> 
> As usual, tell me everything in your mind < 3


	7. My favorite flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The training is hard with Mila. But that phonecall with Otabek might be even worse for Yuri. Especially for his nerves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm soooooooooorry! i've fallen into the Voltron hell for a moment and have been overworking beside, but I'm back with that new chapter started ages ago! I'm so happy I could do something with it! <3

Mila had literally killed him, he could swear it. Yakov had shown up after lunch, his eyebags a little darker than usual. He didn't say anything about the night before, but there was probably nothing to say, really. Yuri and J.J.'s constant quarrels were now kind of a habit and it only made people sigh -actually smile, most of the time. 

The training had been something. Yakov was silent for a big part, letting Mila lead the thing the way she wanted. It wasn't like ballet at all and for the whole afternoon, he understood what would be the main problem for this program. It needed his full strength in addition to his abilities for spins, loops, jumps. He knew he was able to do all of this. Of course. Why couldn't he? 

But at his umpteenth attempt for a move he couldn't get, wasn't able to properly understand yet to recreate the way they needed for the choreo, Mila had put a stop. "You're tired," she'd sighed. "And so I am. Let's do something we're more used to do for now, okay?" 

The first day of this new training ended with Yuri still frustrated by his own skills. His lack of skills actually –and it was rare for him to think that way. Exhausted, he'd gotten something to eat on his way back, and was already done with it when he reached the door of the small house. The last thing he did was going in his room, fall on his bed, his bag lost somewhere in the entrance. He'd let if fall without even thinking further about his stuff in it. He would see in the morning. Eyes burning like hell from tireness and the cold air at the rink, he just needed to sleep, with the hope that it would help with the dull pain ramming along his body. Between the suddenly different training, his lack of sleep, and his current growth, it had been a day in hell. And Mila was Satan. Next to her, Lilia, Yakov and Victor were barely some cute devils, he could swear. 

His whole body muffled in that pain didn't let him find a nice position to sleep. In the end, he just found himself half sleeping on his side, his fingers brushing the edges of his phone resting near his pillow. 

He hadn't answer Otabek since the morning practice, since the man had been eating that lettuce thing. Since what he'd said. Not that he didn't like it, actually knowing that Otabek was treasuring their conversations at the point he would be denying his need for sleep really made him happy. Really. So much, even. But he didn't know how to answer that in the right way and every time he didn't feel confident enough to answer Otabek, he ended up with an absence of answer. 

Checking his mailbox, he'd read a few more messages from the Kazakh and he sighed. He needed to see his nickname amongst his notifications. There were some retweets, then a picture of the ice rink in Almatin popping in his feed. The place was empty, it was probably late when he'd taken it. There was only a figure still skating, and it had taken Yuri a few seconds to understand that it was Otabek. Someone else might have taken the photograph for him, and he had squinted his eyes a little to be able to read the caption under it. 'Beka never sleeeeppppp wanna go home'. It wasn't Otabek picture, he finally understood, but someone had tagged him in it and it had appeared in Yuri's news feed somehow. 

If he enlighted the screen, he knew his phone was still on the profil page of the person who had taken the picture. There was those huge dark eyes, that long hair, that slightly tanned skin, on the profil picture. He immediatly disliked her name 'Nadya'. What a lack of originality, really. There was nothing interesting in her feed. Pictures from Almaty during the day, during the night, the ice rink, people skating on it, Otabek going out of the changing room half naked with that annoyed scowl on his face, the cafeteria, a bunch of coaches talking together, a stupid dog...

Wait. 

What? 

Yuri blinked a little and made the pictures pass back to get back to _that one_ that took him off guard and he frowned a little. It really was Otabek, and the man looked almost angry through his usual so-called blasé face. Something had upsetted him somehow, probably that Nadya he was looking at -if she was the one taking the picture. With a hint of curiosity, he pressed on the picture to get the caption. ' _hes so embarrassed ahahah!_ ' A towel around his hips was all that was hiding his body, and in the back another girl was laughing at them. 

Yuri sighed. He'd never heard about a girlfriend before, or anything, and had always thought that the Kazakh was a bit like him -too much of a busy skater and student to actually get one or even think about that. But maybe he wasn't the same, and in a sort of way it couldn't be a bad thing after all. But...

Stretching a little on his matress, with his blanket sliding against his body, Yuri sighed and groaled at the same time. He wanted to send a message to Otabek, didn't know what to put in it. It was quite ravaging, keeping him away from sleeping. 

At some point, the thought that he still hadn't called Otabek crossed his mind. It was late. The Kazakh wouldn't answer his call, and somehow it was reassuring. Nor would he answer his message right now. A wave of pain killed his knees, making him hold his breath against his own will. 

He had closed Nadya's profil with a slow forefinger sliding on the smooth surface of the screen, the phone flat on the matress near his pillow. He tipped on it softly -it was always amazing how his finger made him open Otabek's chatting window without even thinking about it. 

Yuri litterally jumped when the small phone vibrated under his finger without a warning, and he pulled it a little closer to give an eye at the enlighted screen without having to mode his head. 

**Ota-bee : "Sleeping?"**

It took him a few seconds to register that _no_ he wasn't breathing anymore. God knew why. The tip of his finger was already crashing against the smooth screen, right on the blue frame with that phone icon. 

He was stupid. 

The ring echoed slowly in the room due to the high speackers he'dput on. _The ring_ because there was only one. Then, he swallowed slowly, hardly, at the small sound, that ' _click_ ' as Otabek was taking the call. 

"I wondered if you'd ever call me again." 

Yuri closed his eyes. For a moment, he needed to stop everything, and that deep, amazing voice was probably everything he needed. How weird it was when the same words, used differently, didn't mean the same thing at all. Otabek's voice was suddenly filling the room, and it was incredible, even though it was slightly deformed by the phone. 

"So you doubted?" he replied. 

It wasn't a reproach, actually Yuri didn't even bother making his voice sound like it could be one. He was talking so low, was actually so _tired_ , and Otabek at the other side of the phone call could probably understand it. 

"Never." 

The stony tone made Yuri laugh a little, and a long sigh answered to it. Something resigned, tired as well. The boy rolled on his side, staring at the ceiling barely enlighted by the screen on the bed. 

"So, you called," Otabek stated, and for a second Yuri felt like he was caught on something. But he didn't know what, why, and didn't know how to answer to that. So he just mumbled some "Yeah, and?" in a grumpy voice. The Kazakh's voice instantly smoothened, with a soft noise as he was probably keeping back a little laughter. 

"I like it."

Yuri frowned at it. 

"Man, you'd rather keep that line for your girl." 

Oh shit. 

The silence on the other side weighted all of a sudden, heavy in the entire bedroom air. A few seconds passed by and once again, he sucked in a breath sharply, looking for something to add. 

"I--" 

"My _what_?" 

Yuri blinked. Otabek's tone was just so genuinely surprised that it had taken him by surprise. But he didn't say anything, waiting patiently -or rather impatiently, _hungrily_ as Otabek was processing things out and answering with some time. Too much time. Tireness might be what was taking him so long. Somehow. Probably. He wasn't sure. He didn't know. 

Oh man, why was his mind so _full_ of questions and so _empty_ with answers? 

But a soft huffing in the room made him shiver a little under his blanket. He knew that Otabek was _smiling_. 

"Are you making fun of me?" Yuri growled. 

"I'm not. Were you serious when you thought that I could have a _girlfriend_?"

The way Otabek said the last word was a bit weird; he made it sound so funny, so impossible, so _not him_ that Yuri wasn't here for a second, blinking with disbelief. Well. He hadn't been expecting that. 

The silence was back, as if Otabek was waiting for something and--

Oh. 

Yuri gulped. 

It wasn't a casual chatting through written messages. 

He couldn't escape giving an answer by ignoring Otabek. They were _talking_. Hanging up, and he felt it so deep under his skin, in his chest, was the last thing to do. 

He took a breath. He wasn't a big amator of this topic. Especially toward Otabek. _God knew why_. 

"Difficult not to think you have one," he finally sighed after what sounded, to him, an eternity. 

There was that light laughter resonnating in the room from the high speackers, and it warmed him for a few seconds. Watching the fragile frame of the cellphone on the sheets was frustrating. 

"Did it upset you?" 

Otabek's tone wasn't weird or anything. There was no innuendo in his words, and somehow it stopped Yuri's heart from beating too much –beating? He frowned a little at the realization. Everything sounded _normal_ and it was...Particularly annoying. 

"Na," he mumbled. 

"Really? You sound pissed off." 

"I'm not." 

Otabek huffed softly in the microphone and Yuri tried to imagine his face at that moment. It was difficult. Photographs weren't enough to show him enough of Otabek features and what he might look at that moment. 

"Ok, I believe you then," was all that Otabek said. And _that_ pissed Yuri off, but he didn't say anything this time. 

Sometimes, there were those soft sounds in the mic, and Yuri knew that the young man was moving in his bed, probably changing his position. 

"What would you do?" Otabek suddenly asked. 

Yuri blinked, surprised. "Eh?" 

"If I had a girlfriend. What would you do?" 

"I don't get the question." 

This time, the soft laughter Otabek gave him sounded a little different. Yuri couldn't point what it was about, but there was something, and the fact that he wasn't able to answer here and now suddenly got on his nerves. Why couldn't he find an answer right away? What was wrong with that question? 

What was wrong with Otabek getting a girlfriend? 

What was wrong with the picture of Otabek hugging a cute girl with long dark hair? 

"Ah, sorry, I'm saying weird things again I guess?" 

What was wrong with Otabek kissing a girl? 

_What was wrong, really?_

"Yura?"

He wasn't thinking about the pain radiating in his entire body anymore, to be honest. He wasn't answering Otabek anymore at that moment, staring at the screen. The ellapsed time for their conversation was running slowly and quickly at the same time. 

"Eh, Yura, you're sleeping?" 

"Everything sounds bad," Yuri finally breathed out. 

"Uh?" 

"You having a girlfriend." 

Otabek only giggled at it. "Really? That's mean." His laughter echoed a little in the microphone, and Yuri sighed. 

"That's not," Yuri replicated with a small pout. "Just..." 

Hesitation was always a bad thing, and Otabek didn't take his time before jumping on the occasion. 

"Just what?" 

Yuri snorted, mubling a "nothing" while rubbing his face in his pillow with the hope that it would erase all of his previous sentences. 

But it didn't. The screen was still enlighted, projecting its pale light on the ceiling. 

A heavy sigh filled the room through the cellphone and Yuri shivered a little. "Just in case, Yura, I don't intend to have a girlfriend." 

The teen didn't answer, staring again at the phone. 

"I have something else in mind, ok?" 

At that, Yuri snorted again, unable to hold back a funny smile. "Like taking my title during next year Grand Prix?" 

"Like skating my favorite program with my favorite flower." 

He chocked, sucked in a breath and waited a few seconds before being able to speak again. It was long enough to make Otabek worrying about that silence. 

"Sorry, was ' _flower_ ' too much here?" 

"What do you mean your _favorite program_?" 

Was he himself deliberately skipping the _favorite flower_ thing? Actually, both were taking him appart, but he had to put a priority on the skating part. 

The ice was all that mattered to them. He had to remember it as often as possible, and it was hard to focus on it when Otabek's laughters resonated again in the room. 

"I'm going to skate it with you, how can't it be my favorite?" 

Fuck. 

"Fucker," the boy mumbled, and even he couldn't miss the heat suddenly spreading all over his face and body at those words -Otabek had always had a deep voice, even through a fucking cellphone. He swallowed, annoyed and at the same time he could feel his heart jumping stupidly in his chest. 

Not only his heart, by the way, and not only in his chest. 

"You're a dead Don Juan if you keep saying things like that," he hissed, and he used his own voice to cover the sound of the sheets while unfolding his long legs to feel more at ease. Why didn't he take his trousers off when he had the time, by the way? 

"W-wait, what? Did I say something again?" 

"Any girl would fall for less than it, I swear!" Yuri growled again. He wasn't angry, of course, and he could hear the hint of panic in the young man's voice, but he couldn't let Otabek continue this way -his night depended on it and on his own ability to stop his body from reacting too easily to--

To _what_ , by the way? 

To his _voice_? Why? He knew Otabek's voice for long now. 

To the _sound of the sheets_ moving around him through the microphone? His sighs due to his tireness? It wasn't the first time and it was still damn sexy. 

_Shit_. 

"Yura, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, was I bothering?"

Otabek's tone was genuinely concerned and worried, and at that moment Yurifelt unable to answer. 

"Eh, Yura, I--" 

"It's ok." 

"Really? You sound pissed off..." 

He sighed. "You're with it again?" 

Actually, Yuri knew that he might sound _weird_ instead of _pissed off_. But...He couldn't casually say _I'm having a boner because of you_ , right? It was the second time in less than a week, by the way, and somehow the idea that Otabek's stay would be awfully long kind of hit his mind. 

He just had to hope that those accidents woudn't happen with the Kazakh beside him. 

"Sorry," Otabek breathed. And it got worse, his raspy voice lingering in Yuri's mind. 

Well. 

It woud be a long stay, for sure. 

"I'm way too impatient for friday," the man added. "Can't sleep well. I'm sorry for saying stupid things." 

"You--" 

Yuri hesitated this time, but in the end he gave up trying to stop Otabek from speaking like that. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last. 

He mumbled instead, and he knew he was digging his own grave. "I don't mind." 

"You don't mind?" Otabek sounded surprised. 

"Well, uh, how to say...You can say...Whatever you want...?" 

What an amazing idea, Yuratchka, _amazing_ , really. But this time, the silence was back, settling softly between the two of them until Otabek's voice break it, low and deep. 

"You should keep this line for your girlfriend."

Yuri's heart was beating. 

Hard. 

He knew it, he could feel it. His heart was racing more and more, and he wasn't sure if he hated or liked it. 

He didn't waste his time. 

"I have something else in mind," he murmured, taking Otabek's words from before. 

Was it a game? 

He didn't know. He didn't even know if he wanted to understand what was behind it. For now, he just felt the need to say those things, those lines, to the man. 

Two minutes before, Yuri was annoyed by the fact he was starting to have an erection to his friend's voice. 

Now, it didn't even matter, it felt _normal_. Otabek taking his lines first was like a silent agreement, like a "It's ok". 

OK for what? He didn't know. But it was ok. Because, well. It was Otabek. 

They were friends. 

And through this innocent relationship, Yuri knew that something was there, special, yet amazing, and making his heart beat so much. He was just unable to get it, transforming it into something frustrating he was craving for. 

When he was trying to think about it, it was even worse. 

"Like keeping your title next year at the Grand Prix?" 

Yuri giggled a bit. A mirroring chatting was funny, somehow. His cheeks were hot from the excitation settled under his waist, and for once he dared slip a hand against his crotch. 

"Like--"

He sighed at the feeling and somehow hoped that it wouldn't be too obvious, before continuing his sentence. 

"--waiting for you to come to Moscou." 

Mirroring Otabek's words wasn't his thing anymore. Well. It would do. 

There was a chocked noise in the phone , and soon Otabek's voice came again. "You're one to talk, Yura! You're even more flirty than me, oh god!" 

His voice sounded halfway between panic and surprise -and something else but he couldn't figure out what. He chuckled a little at that, letting his hand press a little against the dark and thick fabric of his trousers. He wasn't used to palm himself -nor doing more by the way, so the light touches were already pretty effective. He heard himself laugh a little at Otabek's words and how he felt taken appart. It sounded...Great. Somehow. He wasn't sure if it was the good word to use in this situation, but still. 

"Probably," Yuri sneered in a low voice. A loud moan of disapproval echoed in the room through the phone, and it killed him somewhere down in his low waist. Lips tight not to let a weird sound escape his mouth, he just sighed through his nose, trying to muffle it in his pillow for a second. 

_That_ wasn't a healthy situation. 

"Man, if I'd been a girl, I'd fell for you with less that this." 

Yuri gulped. When would Otabek stop genuinely saying those things? "You're silly," he sighed again. But under his hand, he knew that Otabek's voice was feeding his awful boner. 

"Really? I could fall for your voice here and now with no problem." 

Yuri blinked -and his cock twitched joyfully at it and he just _hated himself_ and how he liked that deep and low voice talking to him this way. Wasn't it going too far? 

"What?" 

Was it still a friendly thing to says such things? Otabek suddenly stammered, his usual small panic showing off through his voice. "Ah, oh, w-wait, _that's weird_ , forget it!" 

"Really," Yuri moaned a little at the request. How the heck could he forget all of that!? 

"Please, please, just...Well, I'm tired? There's, uh...Nothing weird, ok?" 

Otabek could beg all night long, Yuri suddenly thought. It wouldn't be a problem to him, only to his mind and body. 

"So, you don't like my voice?" he gently teased. 

"Oh my god, that's _definitely not_ what I mean, I--uh--"

"It changed," Yuri cut him without a warning. His hand had a strong grip aroung his own crotch, the feeling of the pressure as excited as painful somehow. 

"Of course it changed. It had already started when we've met at the Grand Prix." 

"You noticed it?" 

"Yura..." 

The boy didn't talk. He'd hoped that the subject would stop his body -it didn't. Instead, Otabek's soft and nice voice only sounded even worse to his ears. Sweet. 

"I already asked you," Otabek continued. "Did something happen?" 

He sighed. "Not really." 

"I'll take it as a _yes_ then." 

"Don't turn things the way you want..." Yuri hissed a little between his teeth. His other hand had slid the tip of his fingers under the belt of his trousers, the tip of his fingers in search of the swollen head stuck in his underwear. 

Otabek chuckled softly and a sudden urge filled him -his fingers tried to circle around his penis, his other hand half stroking through the thick fabric and _be damned that fucking fly_. It was like his pelvis was in fire. 

"What is it about, Yura?" 

_Damn_. That guy and his voice. His _concerned_ voice.

At that moment, Yuri felt a little jealous. Having a voice like Otabek's would be a dream. Now, it was too late to hope. 

He swallowed. There was no lump stuck deep in his throat, just...

Just _that_. That feeling that was crawling under his skin, making him need even more of it. He didn't want to like it. 

But...

He couldn't hate it either. 

"You know you can talk to me, right?" 

His voice was the sweetest thing in the world. He could swear. 

"I--" 

He was breathless -he didn't expect that. Gulping even more, he gathered his thoughts all together to think properly - _not about your fingers, Yuratchka, don't think about what's happening in your pants_. 

"I don't want to change," he shyly admitted. 

There was a soft sigh at the other side of the phone. Something nice, gentle, and Yuri didn't wonder anymore if he had made the right choice by telling Otabek. 

"You don't want?" 

There was no reproach in his voice. 

His beating heart was still so fast, but he wasn't sure about the reason anymore. 

"It's...Scary...?" he murmured. 

"Yeah?" 

"I don't feel like myself anymore..."

And hell, it was the case right now. Some time ago, he wouldn't have been caught doing _that_ in his bed, hidding his voice, hidding his _moans_ as much at possible from the microphone. From Otabek. 

It wasn't _him_. 

"Hey, that's normal, Yura." 

The boy closed his eyes for a few seconds -the heat radiated in the lower part of his abdomen. 

"But...Don't refuse it, ok? Remember it's for the best." 

"What if I can't?" 

"Can't what?" 

Otabek's voice was still doing its job, soft and low, nice. He wanted to loose his mind listening to it. 

"Accept my new self." 

A sighed answered at first and Yuri shivered. 

"Can I say something weird, this time?" Otabek asked. 

The loud beating was still echoeing in his ears, but Yuri growled in response, earning an amazing chuckle. 

"I'll like it for you, man." 

He stopped breathing. "Uh? What do you-"

"I'll like you no matter how you change, Yura." 

His fingers trembled around himself, the hot and wet feeling suddenly spreading between his phalanges. 

It had been a little too much this time and this time he'd been unable to hold a small scream. 

"Yura?" 

_Breath, breath, it's ok, answer as quick as possible!_

"You're ok? What's going on?" 

"N-nothing--!" 

His heart still drummed hard in his chest, and he was...Breathy. It was difficult not to let it appear. 

"You...You're silly," he murmured. 

An embarrassed laugther answered him. "I told you it was weird! But...That's how I feel, I guess? Well, like...You're important to me. And...See? Uh. Well, that's weird actually, jeez!" 

Yuri grimaced a little -but more because of the sticky feeling on his skin. His underwear felt wet now. _Great_. 

"But..." 

Otabek's voice had lowered a little, earning Yuri's attention. 

"I think I understand you. Changing is scary when you don't have a hold on it." 

"That's...Right..." The boy mumbled. 

Talking to Otabek about what was making him feel so bad for a moment wasn't so bad after all. The young man wasn't pitying him, at least. 

It was even more that it. It was different. There was that real interest, and his way to show how concerned he was by the situation. 

"I guess that's why you've been hiding yourself from the cameras 'til now?" 

Yuri chocked on his saliva at that. "You noticed?" 

"I'm not stupid, eh! You haven't posted any picture of yourself in the last two months, it was weird enough for me to worry!"

"Uh--I'm sorry...?" 

His fingers were sticky and felt disgusting, his cock getting soft in his dirty pants. Amazing. How comes adults were all about sex and that stuff? 

_Gross_.

"Don't be, it's ok. Well...I'm impatient now." 

Yuri growled a little -more for his clothes. "What for?" 

"To see how much you changed." 

"Continue like this and I won't even pick you up at the airport." 

"So mean!" 

"Of course I am." In the darkness, Yuri spotted a small pack of tissues and he rolled a little until he could grab them from the nightstand. "Are you staying at the hotel?" 

"Yeah, that's what my coach said." 

"Text me the name later, ok?" 

"Mh. What are you doing? That's noisy." 

Yuri had been moving a little too much, unbuckling the belt and pulling the trousers off as much as possible in order to clean himself -he'd juste forgotten about what had just happened a minute before. 

"Uh. Nothing. Just, uh--taking my pajamas..." 

"Your--Ah, must be the sheets then--You're in your bed?" 

"Uh, yeah..." 

A new silence settled slowly. He could hear Otabek's breath in the microphone and still, the light sound of fabric moving constantly around him. 

All of a sudden, reality hit him and he frowned. "It's getting late, will it be ok for you?" 

"Oh..." 

It had to be more than 1AM for the young man. Training would start early, for sure. A deep and annoyed sigh resonnated. 

"I don't know. That's the least of my preoccupations." 

"Sleep," Yuri sighed. 

"You don't want to talk a little more?" 

"I--" 

He shook his head, even if Otabek couldn't see it. 

"We'll talk later," he murmured. "Friday..." 

"Friday sounds great," Otabek continued in a murmur mirroring Yuri's voice. 

He liked it. The proposition sounded like coming from the both of them. 

_He liked it_.

"Friday sounds too far," he complained. 

"It _is_."

"Don't be late." 

"I won't be." 

They didn't call each other during the next days, but the already huge amount of messages between them seemed to increase after that. Everyday, through Mila's awful training, through the pain in his body, through his desperate need to forget everything from his daily life, giving an eye to his phone was the best to do. No matter the time, the weather, the topic going on at that moment, there was _his_ name in the corner of the small screen, that small colorfull notification for a new private message waiting for him. 

And it was reassuring not to feel alone through life. 

Despite the pain, despite the stress and the pressure. 

Despite the absence of the people he cherished around him in the small house. 

Busy with his life, he didn't take the time to think more about what had happened on that night phonecall. He didn't need to think about it, anyway. 

Otabek would be here soon. 

That was all that mattered now. 

"Yuri! Hurry up!" 

The big voice of the old man suddenly awoke the boy as he was taking his time in the changing room. It was the _day_. His nervousity had been a little too much overwhelming actually, and Mila had spent the whole morning mumbling against him. In the end, she'd even tried to lift him over her head to frightened him.

She hadn't been able to do it. 

He was too heavy, now. Too tall. 

A loud shot made the door tremble and he jumped in surprise. 

"IF YOU DON'T MOVE YOUR FUCKING ASS I'M COMING MYSELF!" 

Ah, Mila. Yakov might have called her to give a hand at getting him. 

Hair undone from changing his clothes quickly in the end, Yuri opened the door before she could hit again. There, a large smile was waiting for him. 

"It's today," she said. "Still nervous?" 

"Shut up," he growled. "I'm not."

"Sure, big baby!" she giggled. "Yakov's in the car already. Don't make him wait!" 

She didn't need to say it twice, the boy was already running to the main exit. His heart was beating loud, fast, and he could almost feel it in his ears. In his pocket, his phone hadn't vibrated for more than three hours, and he knew that he had to be patient. Otabek couldn't contact him during his fly. 

In the car, the idea that Otabek would be in Moscou for real suddenly sounded more real. Like...What would they do? Or say? Through a phone, everything was easier, but in real life? Would they even talk as casually as they always did during those last months? 

Of course, they talked a lot in Barcelona during the Grand Prix. But it was different now. They weren't discovering each other anymore. 

It felt incredibly different. 

"No pressure, boy," Yakov suddenly say. "Stop eating your fingertips." 

Unaware of that sudden bad habbit, he raised his eyes to the old man. He was driving slowly, with care, not giving any importance to Yuri's impatience. Anyway, it wouldn't make the plane land faster. 

"That's not you," the man continued. 

Yuri only pouted at that. "Well, I'm...Not used to it..." 

"Used to what? You know the airport by heart!" 

"Welcoming a friend." 

"Oh." 

Yakov let a soft smile linger on his face after that, but Yuri didn't say anything about it during the two hours of the journey. 

In a few time, Otabek Altin would land in Moscou.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are dears! I hope you like it...And be ready for the next one!! :D :D :D 
> 
> As usual, don't hesitate to send a message or a comment about this work <3 
> 
> Love you all!


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